Sixth Year: The Steps Toward The End
by scaryisntit
Summary: After losing Sirius, Harry resolves to himself to become stronger, revive the DA and create his own 'army'. In one of the most trying year of his life, Harry will need everything he and his friends can offer to overcome the trails and tribulations before him.
1. This Train Will Be Taking No Passengers

**Sixth Year: The Steps Toward The End**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling... If you don't know this and are reading Harry Potter Fan Fiction then there is something seriously weird going on. This goes for _every_ chapter as I can't be bothered copy/pasting for each chapter

Summary: Harry Potter has spent his summer after fifth year dealing with the death of his beloved Godfather, Sirius Black. As the Hogwarts new school year begins, Harry makes the choice to continue the DA to train, not only for lack of a decent DADA teacher, but to teach those whom he can trust how to defend themselves as the war begins to pick up pace. New friendships begin and old ones fade as Harry discovers who he can truly trust with his secrets, his life and even his heart.

Picks up from when Harry arrives at Kings Cross during HBP. Everything that happened up to that point in the book may be assumed to have happened in this story, with the exception that Harry hasn't told Ron and Hermione the Prophecy.

Pairings: Harry/Daphne/Fleur/Hermione/Padma.

This is **not** a harem story. Let me say that again: this is **not** a harem story. Harry will have several very different relationships throughout the course of his next two years, but not all at once and with the consent of others. I'm going to try and make the relationships as realistic as I can, and harems don't fall into the 'realistic' category in modern society.

A/N: What else is there to say? I didn't like HBP or DH that much and decided to write out some of my own ideas. I don't believe for a second any of this would be canon, but hey, it's going to be an enjoyable time nonetheless.

This will be long, and generally character centric. That means there will be many chapters' in-between fights in the first half of the story and dominantly dialogue instead. If you want a heap of action, I'm afraid you'll have to click the back button. If you're still interested, let's begin this probably overlong tale.

Note that chapter titles are a mix of song titles and my own invention. Originally they were all song titles but as time went on, I found I lacked the necessary amount of songs to find something suitable. You'd think having somewhere around 2700 songs would be enough…

The song title is from the Australian band "Augie March". They're one of most literate bands out there.

Thanks to chem prof for his beta work.

_**Chapter 1: This Train Will Be Taking No Passengers**_

Alistair Gredford had noticed some strange things during his decade of service as a security guard at Kings Cross Station in London. It seemed that September 1st, without fail every year, heralded a strange sight. Children from the age of probably eleven to seventeen would enter the station with trunks, clearly weighing something ridiculous, with either a cat (which was normal all things considered), a toad (a little less normal) or an owl. An owl in daylight is a rarity in itself, but children with caged owls and bringing them on a train was something else entirely.

The peculiar sight was originally unnerving, especially when there were at least thirty groups with owls. However, Alistair grew used to this peculiarity, and as he made one of his rounds on this September 1st, he was unsurprised at the now familiar sight of families with large trunks and assorted animals.

On occasion, Alistair would overhear conversations from the groups. One unfamiliar word he had heard several years ago had been a commonly used one amongst these strange groups. Alistair had searched around, through dictionaries, the local library, and even the internet, to ascertain the words' meaning. He'd been unsuccessful. This, unfortunately, only increased his curiosity.

In short, to say that Alistair was interested in these people would be an understatement. This attitude was about to get him killed.

Alistair had decided this year to approach a group and ask what in blazes a "Muggle" was.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Bellatrix Lestrange was furious. Bellatrix Lestrange was delighted. It was a strange mix of emotions but this was Bellatrix Lestrange after all. She could multi-task.

Three months ago she had failed to complete a mission assigned to her and Lucius Malfoy. The mission had been to trick Harry Potter into retrieving the prophecy in the Ministry of Magic's infamous 'Department of Mysteries'. It was a simple task, really. Feed the boy a vision of his Godfather in peril, and the boy would come. He was there within two hours. Quite a feat considering the boy did not know how to Apparate.

The Potter boy wouldn't allow any harm to come to his friends. That was the crux of the plan. However, he proved to be incredibly stubborn when he resisted, and his five companions shot Reductor Curses at the glass spheres containing the recordings of Prophecies made that had and hadn't been fulfilled yet, and the shelves that they sat on.

Her mission had gone downhill from there, until her Master had eventually come to her rescue from the old goat Dumbledore and his band of merry men. He had been furious with her, his plan had failed and now the world knew he was back. And he didn't even have the Prophecy to show for it. The only solace for Bellatrix was the fact she had killed her disappointment of a cousin, Sirius Black.

Now, on September 1st, Bellatrix had her chance at revenge for her failure at the Department of Mysteries. Her mission was simple.

Find the target.

Destroy his wand.

Get out.

Voldemort had explained the significance of the Potter boys' wand to her and her alone. As she was now the most senior Death Eater thanks to Lucius getting himself captured, she was privy to this information and was now leading the charge on the Hogwarts Express. She would get her revenge on the target and maybe even a treat if she so happened to find a special someone along the way.

Neville Longbottom – one of the Potter boy's little allies – would join his parents, with any luck.

As for Potter himself… well, he wouldn't know what hit him.

_Watch out Baby Potter. Aunty Bella is coming to play!_

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was now nine-thirty and the first groups of peculiar people were arriving. Alistair noted them quietly but he could have screamed bloody murder and they wouldn't have noticed, for the noise of the station drowned out most conversation.

On his fourth round since the first group, Alistair was passing the main thoroughfare when a tall, dark haired woman collided with him.

"Bloody Muggle! Watch where you're going!" she screeched.

Several people nearby heard the shout and turned to satisfy their curiosities.

Embarrassed, Alistair momentarily missed the fact that this woman just called him a 'Muggle'. "I sincerely apologize, ma'am. It won't happen again."

The woman brushed out the creases in her clothing, which was odd in itself. Who did wear robes nowadays? She then looked straight into his eyes and said, "See that it doesn't." and took off.

Alistair's mind took several seconds to come back online. She'd called him a Muggle, hadn't she? This was the chance he'd been waiting for.

Deciding that this was as good a time as any, he followed the dark haired woman past several platforms before she veered off onto platform nine. Dodging dozens of other citizens on the platform, Alistair closed this distance between the woman and himself. Just as caught up, she disappeared into a barrier.

Alistair blinked, perplexed. She'd been there a second ago.

He circled the barrier to and found nothing. Had she walked through the barrier? How was such a feat even possible?

His curiosity spiking now, Alistair reached out to touch the barrier. He expected to touch stone, nothing more, and nothing less. He was so sure of himself that he nearly fell over when he pushed forward with his hand, proving the barrier to not be solid at all. His hand went straight through.

Alistair risked a glance to see if anyone saw that his hand was going straight through stone but it seemed that not one person paid any interest in him or the barrier. Thinking about it, it occurred to him that he never saw anyone near this particular barrier.

Making a decision, Alistair decided to follow the woman into the barrier. He took a breath and stepped forward, albeit hesitantly.

Alistair didn't know what he was expecting. Would it be an "Alice in Wonderland" adventure? Would it be a "Wizard of Oz" one? Alistair was certain, however, that he had not expected a knife to the gut.

The knife pierced his skin the second he'd stumbled through the barrier and cut straight through his organs. He was too surprised to cry out. His insides quickly began to feel cold. Slowly, as his movements rapidly became a struggle, he raised his head and locked eyes with his attacker. It was the woman. Now that he could see her better, her face was hollowed. There were few remnants of fallen beauty left on her face, and if the hollowed cheeks and eyes had not been enough to dissuade of the notion of beauty, the look in her eyes would undoubtedly be enough.

Looking into her eyes, you would be hard pressed to find a look filled with any more genuine happiness.

Alistair began to feel weak in the legs. The woman let go of the knife and he fell to the ground, coughing up blood onto the pavement. He heard the distant noise of a train. His vision slowly faded as he began to pass out.

Alistair had no family. No wife or children. His parents had been strange people. He recalled for no particular reason to him at that moment that he had been told that his parents had disappeared for nine months a year to a boarding school in Scotland. They had died some seventeen year prior, when he was thirteen. He couldn't remember much about them at all but he took solace that he would them again soon enough.

At nine forty eight am on September 1st, 1996, Alistair Gredford died on Platform 9 ¾.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It had taken Bellatrix mere moments to notice she was being followed. It took her even less time to know that this person was neither wizard nor witch. Her follower lacked any grace probable from an Auror, and had not hidden themselves by any magical means. A quick turn of her head and her peripheral vision noted that her tail was the Muggle she had bumped into a minute earlier.

It was instantaneous. She could feel deep within her a desire to kill this man.

As she passed through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, she had expected some form of resistance. There were no protections against those that carried the mark of her Master, if it were even possible, nor were there any Aurors mixed in the crowd watching for threats. Although her job was easier for it, she was disappointed. Her inner child wanted to massacre. With some effort, Bellatrix focused.

It had been some time since Bellatrix had last visited Platform 9 ¾. She took in the familiar but unfamiliar sight before her senses warned her of someone approaching from behind. She turned; hand ready to whip out her wand, only to find a hand sticking out of the barrier between muggle and magical Kings Cross. No person familiar with the platform would stand on one side with a hand sticking through. Even the Mudbloods had more sense than that.

She drew a Muggle knife she had acquired specifically for this mission, as magic here was monitored closely and she did not want to alert the Ministry of her presence. She waited, prepared to strike at any moment should the Muggle that had been following her pass through the barrier. Would the Ministry notice that a Muggle was passing through the barrier? Shouldn't there be Notice-Me-Not Charms around the barrier, amongst a variety of other protections? Did that mean this person knew of magic?

Regardless of who he was she couldn't risk someone identifying her before she made herself known on the train. Memory Charms could be broken. That left one option: killing him.

Her heart sang.

More of the exposed arm made its way through the barrier, followed by elbow, then more arm and finally the torso. The instant she saw the torso, Bellatrix thrust the knife into the muggle's flesh. Muggles may have been inferior in her eyes but she had to admit this manner of killing was just as fulfilling, if not more so than using _Avada Kedavra_.

Had she had more time or on a less sensitive mission, she would have spent time reveling in the feeling of power she gained from killing someone through her own strength. She let go of the knife and the man fell to the ground, surprisingly silent. She had expected to have to cast a quick Silencing Charm to keep the noise down but the man had been so shocked that he barely made a sound except to cough up blood.

Bellatrix whipped out her wand and transfigured the body into a bone and banished it to a distant corner of the station. Wherever she put it, it would be found out. Transfiguration would be noticed by the Ministry but not on what. The Banishing Charm would be obscure enough to use up more Ministry time.

After Scourgifying the small puddle of blood, Bellatrix made her way out of sight and covered herself in one of her Masters' spells, one more powerful than the Disillusionment Charm. She could stand next to hundreds of students that feared her and never be known to them as long as she stayed out of contact with them. Her lackeys, Rowle and Travers, would be along ten minutes after her as per their plan, so Bellatrix waited.

She watched as several families arrived. The younger children were excited and afraid, the older ones more confident and eagerly catching up with old friends. The parents were saddened to see their children go for another nine months but put on a front to not appear melodramatic. Bellatrix focused on the young children. Her heart, already ecstatic at her ending one life today, begged her for more. More blood, more death, more pain.

Ten minutes later, Bellatrix saw the shimmery outline of Rowle and Travers pass through the barrier. She reached out and tapped them both on the shoulder to make her presence known. The three then moved to the train and climbed through the open doors.

It was just past ten o'clock, and everything was going according to plan.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry Potter had had an eventful summer. He had been picked up early by Professor Dumbledore from the Dursley's, unknowingly persuaded Horace Slughorn into retaking his position at Hogwarts as Potions Professor, visited the Weasley twins' shop in Diagon Alley, and figured out that Malfoy was a Death Eater.

Unfortunately, neither Ron nor Hermione had believed him about Malfoy. Him being "too young" and it being "unlikely" were the arguments that his two best friends came up with and it annoyed and frustrated him to no end.

_Why did Malfoy freak when Madam Malkin touched his arm? Why did Borgin freak when Malfoy showed him something on his arm? Malfoy has been a Death Eater in training since before Hogwarts, and now that his father is in prison, Voldemort would recruit Lucius's son in an instant to replenish his ranks after the Department of Mysteries fight._

The Department of Mysteries… Harry had spent much of the summer thinking about that disastrous evening. He had foolishly fallen into Voldemort's trap and Sirius had paid the price. He had coped with the loss of Sirius…eventually. There had been many nights when he was on the verge of weeping at his loss and his foolishness. He no longer blamed himself; instead put the blame where it belonged, on Bellatrix Lestrange.

Sirius had been Harry's hope of a normal life. Two years ago Harry had rescued him – his newly found Godfather – from the Dementor's Kiss with the aid of Hermione and her time-turner. That night he had, for a brief few minutes, believed he could live a normal life with a caring relative, but as luck… no, _his_ luck would have it, that night was a full moon and Professor Lupin was a werewolf.

Sirius had been a man unhappy since the death of his best friend and Harry's father. Perhaps it had been a relief when he had fallen through the veil… perhaps not. Harry would never know. Now, Professor Lupin was now Harry's last link to his parents, and with any luck, he could spend a bit more time with him before it was his turn.

The Department of Mysteries also brought up another problem: the Prophecy. For Harry's entire life, and even some time before then, he had been controlled by this Prophecy. It had taken until the end of his fifth year before Dumbledore saw fit to give Harry the reason why he was hunted constantly by the strongest evil wizard alive, perhaps ever. Harry had been told he could tell those he trusted and who did he trust more than Ron and Hermione?

When Harry had arrived at the Burrow for the remainder of the summer, he had planned to tell them both the Prophecy. The morning after he arrived, the two of them had ambushed him in his bedroom to talk about Sirius, as Owl Post had not been permitted due to security reasons – to which Harry scoffed at but was too preoccupied to be as angry about as he was the previous year – and they had yet to discuss that night. He was a second from telling them but something in the back of his mind told him _not yet_. He'd hesitated and in that second, Hermione had found herself with a black eye from one of Fred and George's prototypes. The moment passed and Harry decided not to broach the subject for a time, at least until he had a better grasp of what he wanted to do.

Life at the Burrow had been significantly better than at the Dursley's. The news of Bill and Fleur getting married had sparked some tensions between Mrs. Weasley and Fleur, Ginny and Fleur, Hermione and Fleur... Truthfully, Harry wasn't bothered by Fleur at all. He was unaffected by her Veela charm, managing to maintain his dignity around her – unlike Ron, who proved an endless source of amusement at mealtimes – and during several conversations with her when he found her to be somewhat uppity but a generally caring individual. Without actually having heartfelt discussions, Fleur and Harry had a mutual distant friendship stemming from their Tri-Wizard Tournament days. One conversation he had with Fleur when they found themselves alone over the summer, Fleur had shocked him by saying _'eef you were a few years older 'Arry, I might 'ave pursued you instead._'

That proclamation had confused him. He didn't believe he was anything special, let alone someone with Veela blood would want. He did, however, feel his thoroughly beaten self-respect rise from her compliments.

He kept up the appearance of disliking her to make things simpler around Hermione and Ginny, as whenever someone defended her they glared at him – as it was always a male – and started bickering about her for the next twenty minutes. After the third time this happened, Harry had wisely learned his lesson and let Ron dig his own graves.

Harry had spent a fair bit of his summer contemplating the Prophecy. The only one that could defeat Voldemort was him if it were true. Somewhere inside of him he had realized this after their third meeting in Harry's second year. Why else would a dark wizard concentrate on trying to kill just one person if he wasn't a threat?

This year it was time to change things. He could no longer sit idly by and let Voldemort come for him. This year, he needed to learn more magic, he needed to learn to duel better, so when the time came for his next encounter with Death Eaters and Voldemort, he would be prepared.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The morning of September 1st was yet another busy one for the Weasley family. After having seven children, each one attending Hogwarts and therefore doing this for some years, you'd think that the family would have learned to pack the night before but, alas, it was all down to the last minute. Thankfully, the Ministry had provided cars as 'The Chosen One' was amongst the Weasley family. Harry felt that had he not been at the Burrow, there wouldn't have been any Ministry cars waiting to carry the Weasleys luggage.

"_Au revoir, 'Arry' said Fleur throatily, kissing him goodbye. Ron hurried forwards, looking __hopeful__, but Ginny stuck out her foot and Ron fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious, red faced and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying goodbye._

The trip from there on was a quiet one, each of the passengers in their own thoughts, or in Ron's case, embarrassment.

King's Cross Station heralded two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in Muggle suits who flanked Harry, more than the Weasleys, from the moment he got out of the car till he passed through the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

The Hogwarts Express stood on the tracks amidst large amounts of steam. The platform was full of students and parents bidding their children farewell and good luck. Now that Voldemort's existence was revealed, albeit a year after he returned, some students were said to not be returning. It was strange, since the whole safety in numbers thing, and the fact that Hogwarts was one of the safest places in Magical Britain. Voldemort still feared a confrontation with Albus Dumbledore; people would be safer at Hogwarts than on their own. Nevertheless…

Hermione and Ron passed through the barrier seconds after Harry, and just by eye-contact Hermione followed Harry onto the train to find an empty compartment. After storing their trunks safely in the compartment, Hermione reminded Harry that she and Ron had to go to the prefect carriage for their briefing for the year. Nodding, Harry made his way back outside to bid the Weasley parents farewell. He thought about telling Mr. Weasley, as a Ministry employee, about Malfoy being a Death Eater but already imagined him giving the same response as Ron.

"_I doubt that You-Know-Who would allow a sixteen-year-old to join the Death Eaters."_

What would follow would be a pointless argument of whether Mr. Weasley knew what Voldemort would or wouldn't do. So, deciding against it, Harry left the Weasleys on a high note and made his way back to his compartment. Avoiding the unabashed stares that half the people he passed gave him, Harry made his way down the train till he saw Ginny talking with a fellow fifth year.

Nearly stumbling into her as the train finally lurched out of the platform, he gave her a tap on the shoulder and asked, "Need to find a compartment?"

"That's alright, Harry, I'm meeting Dean," she replied happily, and finished her conversation before making her way to the front of the train.

After several collisions and apologies, and another fifty people staring at him, Harry entered his compartment. To his surprise, and a good one for once, Harry found Neville and Luna already seated.

"Hi, Harry!" Neville said brightly. "We saw your trunk in here and thought you'd prefer us to your numerous fans," he continued with an amused expression.

The summer had treated Neville well. He was tanned, with a bit more muscle, and a maturing face with only a few traces of the former chubbiness left. Neville had also grown a bit, to equal Harry in height but with a bit more weight behind him.

There was also something to be said about his confidence. Harry had never known Neville to joke so confidently.

"Neville!" Harry responded happily. "Too right I'd prefer your company." He shook his head. "They don't even try to hide their stares anymore."

After giving Neville a firm handshake, Harry turned to Luna and sat beside her. "How're you Luna? Enjoy your summer?"

Luna looked up from _The Quibbler_ that she was reading upside down again and with her usual dreamy voice greeted Harry. "Very well, thank you. My father and I went on a holiday. We didn't expect one this year but that article you gave us last year sold so much that we were able to go to Romania to research their mythical creatures. An entire edition will be dedicated to them later in the year."

Harry, used to Luna's peculiarity, suspected that she and her father went off in search of a creature like the 'Crumbled Horned Snorkack' that lived in Romania. Whether or not one believed in the creatures that Luna spoke of, _The Quibbler_ magazine was circulating better than ever, also as a side effect to his article the previous school year. Unfortunately, he couldn't say whether it was for the amusement value or not.

"That's great to hear," Harry said sincerely. "You're both all right after the Department of Mysteries?" he asked as he shifted his eyes between them both. Luna just smiled and nodded while Neville spoke his affirmative. Harry had meant to contact them both during the summer but there was always something on his mind preventing him when he actually had alone time at the Burrow.

The three drifted into a semi-comfortable silence for the next minute before Harry and Neville heard giggling outside their compartment door. There was a flurry of words spoken by the several girls outside the door that Harry couldn't grasp before the compartment door suddenly opened. Harry, hand ready on his wand, spoke first.

"Yes?"

A girl with large dark eyes and long black hair took a step in front of the rest of the giggling girls. "Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda Vane," she opened with. "Why don't you join us in our compartment rather than sit with _them_?" She added the last part with poorly concealed distaste in her voice.

Harry turned back to look at Neville who was reaching in his trunk for something, and Luna who was putting on a pair of unusual glasses that came with her magazine. Certainly they were an odd pair, but they were his friends. They fought side by side with him unflinchingly at the Department of Mysteries. Few would.

Harry turned back to Romilda, who had an expectant look on her face. "Neville and Luna… In your eyes they are hardly 'cool', am I right?" he queried. Romilda smiled as she nodded. Harry had to marvel at her audacity. "Full knowing they were going to fight Death Eaters, these two came with me to the Department of Mysteries without hesitation." Harry paused to see Romilda's reaction. Her initial expectant look had been turned into one of confusion and even hesitation at the mention of Death Eaters.

Inwardly smiling, having already seen by her actions how shallow this person was, Harry continued. "Despite the danger, they came with me and fought two-to-one odds against wizards twice our age and managed to draw level with them for a good twenty minutes. Would you have done the same? Come with me, without hesitation into battle without knowing the odds or chances of survival?"

Romilda and her giggling friends were shocked into silence. That silence sealed their fate.

"I thought so. I think this answers your question quite thoroughly. It's nice to meet you Romilda. Have a fun year." Harry got up and Romilda took a step backwards involuntarily. "It's not me you should be scared of you know."

Grinning, Harry closed the compartment door and turned back to his two friends. Neville was beaming at him, and Luna had a small smile on her face as she started humming a strange tune. Feeling happy with himself, Harry retook his seat next to Luna and struck a leisurely conversation about their summers.

Harry was on his way home, with two of the people he trusted the most. It was one of the rare moments in his life, and getting rarer still, that he was happy.

Glancing at his watch amidst the conversation, Harry saw that the time was eleven thirty.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Bellatrix was uncomfortable. For the last two hours now, she had stuck herself to the ceiling of one of the compartments that Draco Malfoy had been instructed to occupy. He'd kicked out half a dozen second years in the process. However, since people could still come in at any time, she had to remain out of sight. Unused to such conditions, her head was throbbing.

Her lackeys Rowle and Travers had it considerably better in her opinion. The racks that carried the trunks of the students were magically expanded to accommodate both the Disillusioned Death Eaters and the Slytherins' trunks.

The Dark Lord's knowledge of the protections at King's Cross proved to be invaluable. The attack, naturally, couldn't happen at the station. There were just too many people and too many Aurors around. Not to say she couldn't take them, she was Bellatrix Lestrange after all, but the aim of this mission required the element of surprise. The attack had to happen a way along the train line, where it take longer for the Ministry to reach.

The Aurors had entered the train, casting _Homenum Revelio_ to detect any invisible stowaways, such as herself. Fortunately, the Aurors didn't look up and cause some unnecessary problems. She could've taken them and modified their memories if she had no other option. Luckily, it didn't come to that. Her skills with Memory Charms were lacking the finesse required for effective modification. And Memory Charms could be broken.

Potter would likely be off guard for most of the trip. The majority of the students were unaware of the protections on the train, just that there had never been an attack in the history of Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express. Why would they expect one now?

Bellatrix was going to make history.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Hey, Harry," Neville spoke up. "Do you plan on continuing the DA this year?"

Harry crossed his arms as he contemplated his answer. He had thought about this for some time during his stay at the Burrow. Certainly, the members of the DA managed to get either E's or O's in their OWLs or NEWTs but would they need it this year with Umbridge gone?

Harry turned to stare out the window. The faint mist that was now commonplace in many areas of London was now behind them as the train chugged through the English countryside. Harry was about to voice his thoughts when Ron and Hermione finally came by.

"…wonder what he's up to?" Harry heard Ron speak as they made their way to his, Neville and Luna's compartment.

"Does it matter? As long as he's not being a pest to first years." Harry heard Hermione answer impatiently.

The door was pulled to the side as Ron and Hermione came in. Ron was looking confused, and Hermione exasperated at Ron.

_Nothing new here,_ Harry mused.

"What's up?" Harry and Neville asked at the same time.

Hermione turned and gave a warm greeting to the pair, and a less warm one to Luna who was now wearing the peculiar glasses and humming a little loudly for her tastes. "Malfoy –" she started before Ron cut across.

"–He's not out and about showing off his prefect powers. He's just sittin' with other Slytherins."

Giving Ron a glare, Hermione continued from there. "Maybe Malfoy is bored with the usual prefect role after the Inquisitorial Squad?"

"Unlikely," said Harry. "He never passes up an opportunity to put someone down unless he's planning something." Turning to Hermione he continued, "You should know this after five years of dealing with him."

Hermione looked taken aback at Harry's sharp remark. "We have no proof that he's doing anything but glorying in the presence of his followers," she replied defensively.

Harry, knowing that she still didn't believe Malfoy to be anything more than a schoolyard bully, appeased her and ended the conversation there. Just as well, as the instant he decided to stop, the compartment door opened and a young third year appeared carrying two letters.

In a shy, quiet voice as she laid her eyes on Harry, she said, "I'm supposed to give these to you H-Harry." Confused, Harry took the two letters. The girl squeaked as his hand touched hers and then turned and ran out the door.

Harry muttered about crazy girls as he passed the second letter, addressed to Neville, along. He then apologized about saying that to Hermione and Luna when he caught Hermione glaring at him.

_Harry,_

_I would be delighted if you would care to join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C at 1pm._

_Sincerely, Professor H.E.F. Slughorn._

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" Neville asked.

"The new Potions Profressor," Harry answered re-reading the letter. "Which means that Snape either has left or has gotten the Defense Against the Dark Arts role at last."

Ron looked positively livid at that revelation. "You're not serious are you? Snape teaching Defense… we may as well get the Fake Moody back here and get him to teach us Dark Arts."

"He won't dare teach Dark Arts or treat us badly in class, Ronald."

"Just like he won't take house points from Gryffindor for no reason at all."

"Don't start," Harry interrupted the start Hermione and Ron's next argument. "I'm not in the mood to listen to this today." Ron gave him a thankful look, presumably for ending the argument before it started, while Hermione gave him an apologetic look before glaring at Ron a few times from across the compartment.

The five of them would've settled into a silence if it weren't for Luna's humming.

Hermione and Ron were still glaring at each other every so often and Harry sighed.

_It's obvious that they have feelings for each other. Why won't they just admit it already? Not that bickering every other day shows great promise for a relationship. Even I know that and I know next to nothing about how to be in a relationship. Cho is a perfect example of that._

A few minutes passed and the trolley lady finally arrived, interrupting that line of thinking. Since both Harry and Neville had invites, they politely declined her offer as it was only twenty more minutes to one. Ron pulled out some sandwiches that Mrs. Weasley had made that morning while Hermione went and bought some of everything. Luna just kept on humming.

For the next fifteen minutes, everyone, minus the humming Luna, kept up small talk till Harry and Neville felt it time to leave. Harry opened the compartment door, and found the hallways pretty empty as everyone was inside their own compartment eating lunch. Neville took a step out into the corridor while Harry turned and said his goodbyes.

Just as Harry was about to close the door, there was a girlish scream from somewhere up the train. A cold trickle of dread went down Harry's spine. He met Hermione's and then Neville's eyes, seeing the same thought pattern on their minds, and the three of them were off in the direction the scream came from in an instant. Ron called out but Harry didn't even bother trying to make out what he said.

Dodging past a pair of second year Ravenclaws staring in the direction of the screams and drawing his wand, Harry passed through into the next carriage. Harry stopped, with Neville and Hermione a step behind him. There was nothing ahead of him but he could feel something wrong.

"Prepare yourselves," Harry whispered to Neville and Hermione.He saw them tense out of the corner of their eyes as she scanned the carriage for signs of movement. There was none.

A tense half a minute passed, and still there was nothing. Was it nothing after all? He reluctantly started to relax when he finally heard shuffling feet from ahead of him.

"Down!" Harry yelled to his companions. The three hit the ground as two Stunners came out of nowhere. Harry raised his wand and cast a _Protego_ shield just before another two hit.

"_Colloportus,"_ Harry heard, one from each end of the carriage. That didn't sound good; he'd walked straight into a trap. Again.

His mind raced, back in survival mode. There was at least one attacker at one end of the carriage and two at the other end. Neville and Hermione both cast shields while trying to find their opponents. Unfortunately, there was nobody in sight.

Coming to the only conclusion that he could, Harry assumed that their opponents were underneath the Disillusionment Charm. At least three Disillusioned enemies against three people in plain sight, stuck in-between their enemies…things weren't looking good.

It was definitely going to be one _those_ years.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Bellatrix was sick of waiting. The students were busy consuming their lunches; it was as good a time as any.

With a quick flick of her wand, she was released from the ceiling, landed semi-gracefully, as her head swam and she stumbled onto the foot of Nott's son. His hiss of pain and anger went untended to as Bellatrix collected herself.

"It's time to go Rowle, Travers," she commanded.

Knowing that if she was seen leaving this compartment, the Slytherins would be under even more scrutiny in the investigation following the raid, she ordered Nott to make sure the way was clear. Someone noticing a door opening and closing by itself might set off warning bells. Thankfully though, most of the students were now inside their own compartments eating. Perfect.

Bellatrix, closely followed by her lackeys, moved into the next carriage. Giving the signal to the other two, she opened the first compartment and quickly silenced all the students before they could cause much of a ruckus. Rowle and Travers made their way past the other compartments, casting the Locking Charm and the Silencing Charm on each. Bellatrix removed the Silencing Charm from a young girl and forcefully held her against a wall.

"Scream," was all she said and the young girl complied. After giving her a few seconds, she then stunned her, shoved her aside and went back into the corridor. This was the part of the plan that was impossible to plan accurately. Bellatrix didn't know where Potter would be sitting or how many people would arrive before he did, and it was impractical to make her way down the whole train searching for the compartment with Potter. There were just too many variables. It wouldn't take too long for some of the students to try and use the Unlocking Charm to escape one of the locked compartments. Wizarding children were unprepared to defend themselves though, and the panic of an attack would cause most of them to lose their cool and forget such a simple spell to unlock the doors.

Almost naturally, Potter was the first to arrive. Bellatrix saw he was with two others but they wouldn't be a problem this time, she would make sure of it. Giving the other two a look, she saw that Potter's allies were the Mudblood and the Longbottom boy. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the Longbottom boy. She had hoped for this, another chance to send him into the room beside his parents.

The feeling of empowerment she achieved from killing that Muggle returned. Bellatrix was almost as close as she could come to bliss, something that would be achieved during her torture of the Longbottom boy. She could _feel_ it.

That moment quickly passed and she regained control of herself in order to lock the doors. She heard Rowle do the other end, and Potter was now surrounded.

_Play time_.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry had been a participant in more fights than he wanted to count in his short tenure in the wizarding world. More so than any other person his age, he was sure. Through his life, his already quick reflexes had been honed from his days at Muggle School, where he had to be quick to avoid being beaten, and then from Quidditch into what they were today. His mind had also become adjusted to working from his survival instincts. He was no true strategist like Ron was, if his chess playing was any indication, but he was confident he could formulate a semi-successful plan given a few seconds. And that's all he had.

"Keep your shields up, be ready," Harry ordered Hermione and Neville.

His opponents were invisible, probably under the Disillusionment Charm. Harry wracked his brain in an attempt to think of a counter, but came up empty. Scrapping that idea, Harry dropped his shield and turned back toward where he came in and fired a weak Reductor Curse at the doorway. He heard a grunt and saw a shimmer near the doorway as the curse hit it. The Locking Charm's magic protected the doorway from exploding from such a weak spell, as a normal one would've destroyed the doorway. Harry couldn't afford to have those behind the doorway get involved in the fight. If these people, whom he was certain were Death Eaters, began to lose, they would most likely cast the Killing Curse with reckless abandon, and any innocents in the doorway could get hit by a poorly aimed spell. Nevertheless, the spell had achieved its purpose. He knew where at least one of his opponents was.

Behind him, Harry heard the unmistakable incantation for a Disarming Spell. Hermione heard it too and shifted her shield in that direction, protecting Harry from the spell. He noticed in an instant that her shield was battered. The spell had been drastically overpowered. Before he could continue down that line of thinking, another two Disarming Spells came from behind. This time Neville managed to quickly strengthen his shield against the overpowered spells, leaving it severely dented but intact. This gave Harry a moment to think.

_Why are they putting so much power into the Disarming Spell when it really doesn't require much? Why aren't they attacking properly… unless… they're not out to hurt me. But then what?_

Harry shielded himself against another set of spells. His shield stood up easily to the challenge.

His wand…

The night Voldemort returned flooded back. Priori Incantatem.

_They're not here to harm anyone, they're after my _wand!

If they wanted his wand, that gave Harry room to maneuver. He cast another Reductor Curse, this time towards the doorway at other end of the carriage. He saw the curse bounce off a shield and he fired another one, a bit stronger this time in the same spot. Hermione and Neville held up their shields, trying to think of what else they could do but defend.

_Without my wand, I won't have the Reverse Spell Effect when I duel with Voldemort. He must be thinking that without this brother wand that I'll be helpless against him._

Harry got to his feet, crouching low, ready to move if need be.

_Unfortunately, for now that is true, _he thought ruefully._ If I can get out of this, I'll need to practice and learn more than ever. We're not playing games anymore._

Harry was interrupted in his thoughts by a cackling laugh that he was all too familiar with.

"Come now baby Potter! Are you just going to hide under those shields casting your pathetic spells against me? Come out and fight me properly."

That voice was unmistakably from none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. Her insanity was audible and her enjoyment just as so. He sensed Neville tense up as he recognized the voice too.

"Don't rise, Neville," he whispered. "We can win; don't let her taunt you into doing something stupid." He got no response, but Neville remained still, shield prepared.

"I could say the same for you, Bella," Harry called out, stalling for time to think. What got rid of the Disillusoment Charm from a distance? What got rid of one full stop? "I'm not the one hiding under a Disillusionment Charm now am I?"

Bella cackled again. "Has ickle baby Potter learnt how to taunt? You're awfully confident for someone who lost their Godfather three months ago."

Harry bristled.

"_Harry_." Hermione hissed warningly.

"You were even kind enough to bring Longbottom to me." Bella continued, oblivious. "I owe you one Potter! _Crucio!_"

Neville, in his crouching position, jumped to the side to dodge the spell but crashed straight into the opposite wall with a hiss of pain. There was so little room to maneuver on the train. That worked for and against them.

"Now, now, little Longbottom." Bella tsked. "Take it like a good son."

Neville was growing red in the face in his anger.

"Hermione, is there a way to reveal invisible people?" Harry asked quickly.

"I know, Harry. I'm thinking, I'm thinking…" she replied quickly, her features creased in concentration. "It's something '_Revelio_'."

"Not sure that's going to cut it, Hermione."

"Quiet, it's coming, it's coming… '_Hom_'… '_Homenum_'… that's it! '_Homenum Revelio_'."

Hermione's triumphant tone was dwarfed when Harry yelled the incantation, wand pointed at Bellatrix.

It took mere seconds for the spell to work its wonder.

Bella materialized in a brief flash of light, and from the two gasps from Hermione and Neville, Harry gathered that the other two were now visible as well. He promised himself to give Hermione a huge hug and a thank you if they got out of this all well and good.

What happened next was pandemonium.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ was cast by each of the fighters and the wands went everywhere.

Bella's spell caught Hermione and her wand went flying straight up, hit the ceiling, then the floor and bounced out of reach. Harry's spell caught Bella and her wand went flying across of the room towards Harry who was about to catch it when Rowle's spell got him in the back, knocking him forward and his wand went flying towards the Death Eater until it collided with Neville's, Rowle's and Travers's wands in mid air.

With everyone disarmed, there was a mad scramble for a wand. Harry charged after his own wand and collided with a tall, thin man who he would later learn to be Travers. Both fell back with two wands between them. Harry and Travers met each others gaze, daring the other to move first. Both ended up moving at the same time.

Harry picked up a wand unfamiliar to him and cast a disarming spell at his opponent, which connected and the other's the wand went flying down to the other end of the carriage. Travers tackled Harry to the ground, knocking the wand out of his hand and the breath out of him.

Unused to Muggle fighting, Travers did nothing to pin Harry down and instead got straight off him and went for a wand. Harry, on the other hand, had gotten used to Muggle fighting due his time at Muggle School and knew how to fight back. Harry grabbed Travers's foot, causing the Death Eater to hit the ground on his next movement. Harry's arms nearly yanked out of their joints. Knowing the man was much bigger and stronger than he was, Harry quickly got up, rolled him over and used his knees to pin him down.

The closest wand was still a few meters away. Harry wouldn't be able to reach it without letting go, so he punched Travers across the jaw a few times, wincing in the process from the pain, before getting off of the man and lunging for the wand on the ground. He managed to pick it up, and felt it was his own. Harry rolled over and cast another Disarming Spell, unknowingly dodging an Impediment Jinx.

Harry stood and found himself back up against the door he came in. He briefly saw spectators in his peripheral vision as he got up and paid them no mind as he had little time. Harry saw Neville struggling in a tug-o-war match against an enormous blonde man whom he would later learn to be Rowle. Unfortunately, Neville had the wrong end of the wand and had to keep the end of the wand away from him to prevent being cursed by a variety of spells the blonde man was yelling incantations to. Harry pointed his wand at them both and cast the Disarming Spell again. The wand flew straight up but this time Harry was ready and quickly cast a Summoning Charm before Rowle could regain the wand. The wand flew straight into Harry's left hand and he found it to be Hermione's wand.

Hermione, Harry saw, was dueling properly with Bellatrix at the far end of the compartment. Both of them had wands that weren't their own and their performance suffered accordingly. Hermione was managing to shield all of Bella's less effective curses and getting a few of her own out but neither was effectively 'winning'.

Harry's attention was quickly brought back to events a little closer to him when Travers started to get up and reach out for the remaining wand on the ground.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry yelled.

A jet of red light burst from Harry's wand and landed smack bang in the face of Travers. He fell unconscious.

_One down._

Raising his wand a little higher, Harry aimed at Rowle who was now on top of Neville, and had just started to punch him in the face.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry called again.

A second jet of red light burst from Harry's wand and hit Rowle in the chest as he looked up to see who had called the spell. The man fell unconscious on top of Neville, who struggled to push the man off of him. He rolled slowly onto his stomach and sent Harry a thankful look. But Harry was no longer paying attention.

"Hermione! Get down!"

Hermione fired one last spell to distract Bella long enough to drop to the ground safely. As soon as Hermione began to fall, Harry cast a Reductor Curse.

His spell was pushed to the side and impacted on the train. What protections there were absorbed the spell without a trace.

Oh, that was something he wanted to learn.

With Neville out of commission, Hermione without her wand, Travers and Rowle stunned, it was Harry and Bella still standing.

"See this?" Harry waved his wand. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

Bella did not visibly react, outside squinting to try and recognize if it were indeed Harry's wand.

"Looks like you'll fail a second time. _Stupefy_!"

His spell was knocked aside again. God, he needed to learn some more effective spells. His current knowledge was too limited for a one-on-one duel with one of the most powerful witches around.

Harry dodged to the side of a curse that he did not recognize the name of, barely getting out of its way in the narrow corridor. His left hand, containing the second wand, was crushed against the magnificent, polished wood.

The second wand…

That gave Harry an idea.

Harry raised both hands and started casting spells he knew intimately well through both wands. Not used to using two wands, Harry quickly began to feel drained, but he continued his assault as he closed the distance between himself and Bella. He passed Neville, who Harry noticed from a quick glance to have a few bruises on their way but was otherwise uninjured. Neville watched in surprise and wonder as Harry was dueling with two wands simultaneously.

Each spell Harry cast was shielded or knocked aside, but Bella was starting to wear down. The combined effort of twice the amount of spells and closing distance caused there to be more and more close calls.

His idea was tipping the balance is his favor, but Harry realized it wouldn't be enough. He wasn't getting any hits, and he was tiring quickly. He had to do something more. So he resorted to tactics unfit in the wizarding world.

Moving faster than ever, Harry passed the stunned bodies of Bella's lackeys, past Hermione, until he was close enough to drop his wand and punch Bella's shocked, Azkaban ruined face.

The force of the blow and her considerable surprise knocked her back a few steps into the door between carriages. She'd _never_ been hit by an opponent before quite like that, and her anger almost blinded her judgment. The Longbottom boy was struggling to his feet behind Potter, a wand in his wand, and the Mudblood was still there too. Three to one, backed into a corner, it began to dawn on her that she was going to lose if she stuck around.

Bella pointed her wand at the carriage exit that students got on and off at the stations and fired a fully charged Blasting Hex, completely blowing the door off its hinges. The door flew outwards before crashing into a tree and breaking further. Harry raised Hermione's wand in his left hand, about to stop her when all the lights went out.

To be more accurate, the Hogwarts Express entered a tunnel.

Completely blind in the sudden darkness, Harry reached out, trying to prevent Bella from escaping. He felt some robes and he grabbed on. Neither moved until a soft voice behind Harry said "_Lumos_" and light filled up a small portion of the carriage hallway.

Caught unawares, Harry was suddenly flung by Bella's movements and stumbled towards the now uncovered exit. The sound of the train and the wind filled Harry's ears and he barely managed to stop himself falling out by grabbing onto a handle above what was left of the doorway.

Harry turned back just in time as the Hogwarts Express exited the tunnel, to miss the blinding light that was the sun. Bella however wasn't so lucky. Harry clenched his fist again and punched her in the jaw. It was now the sixth time in the last few minutes he had punched someone and Harry's hand was aching with the brutal treatment it was being given. Bella stumbled backwards before hitting the opposite wall. Both raised their wands and again managed to disarm each other.

Letting out a scream of frustration, Bella lunged at Harry, who managed to step to the side enough to make her lose her balance. Harry turned and kicked Bella in the backside towards the open doorway. Unable to Apparate in the Hogwarts Express, Bella grabbed onto the same handle Harry had used to keep herself from falling outside. Although that was her aim, the Hogwarts Express was now out in the open, about to cross a river on a bridge some fifty feet off the ground and she did not fancy Apparating in mid-air or falling fifty feet into a river without knowing how deep it was.

She turned back to Harry, who now was looking at her with a dark smile. His earlier plan was out the window. She was too dangerous to capture, at least for now.

"Sorry, Bella, this train will be taking no more passengers."

With that, Harry kicked Bella in the stomach with as much force behind it as he could muster, knocking her out into the open.

The train continued to speed through the countryside without a care in the world as Bella fell through the air towards the river. Just before hitting the water, Harry was certain he heard the 'crack' that signaled Apparition but couldn't confirm it either way as the train rounded a corner and trees obstructed his view of the river.

With a sigh, Harry felt his body start to run low on adrenaline. He turned back and found Hermione standing above where she had fallen with a shocked and then ecstatic expression on her face once she realized he was safe.

"You can get up now," he said as he bent down and offered his hand. Smiling in relief, Hermione accepted his hand and got to her feet before enveloping her best friend in a hug, as if to reaffirm he was still there.

Neville appeared in his eye-sight mid-hug, and aside from the start of the few bruises Harry had noticed earlier, he was all right.

"Thanks, Harry," was all he could say.

"I don't think she's dead yet, Neville." Harry replied, shaking his head. "Next time, feel free to try your luck."

Neville gave him a genuine smile at his wry tone and a thump on the back and went around collecting the remaining wands and re-stunning the captured Death Eaters.

"I'm okay, Hermione," he whispered to her. "I'm not going anywhere." And he meant it.

Voldemort or him, that's what it was coming down to. One day, a duel between the two of them would decide the fate of the wizarding world. Harry knew Voldemort was a far stronger wizard at the moment, with a lifetime's worth of experience more than Harry, but that did not mean that Harry would lose.

"You'd better not," Hermione scolded him, but with a smile on his face. "Who am I going to have to keep me from going insane from overwork if you're not here?"

Giving her a genuine smile, something he'd not done much in recent times, he returned her wand. The two stood there, enjoying the victory, until Neville brought them back to reality.

"Uh, Harry, Hermione, shouldn't we help the people in the compartments?"

It took several minutes, but Hermione figured out how to unlock the compartments when a simple '_Alohomora_' failed to accomplish the task. It took another several minutes to figure out the Silencing Charm enough to undo the spell. Harry felt the train slow while he was working on this, figuring the Ministry was finally here.

The occupants, dominantly second and third year students, were looking at Harry with even more awe than usual. After all, they'd just be privy to front seats in a duel between one Voldemort's strongest Death Eaters and the young man heralded as 'The Chosen One'. Harry noticed but was too drained to let it get to him.

By the time they were done, the carriage was filled with celebrating people. Harry smiled through the attention, knowing full well it may turn. However, for once attention was being given to Hermione and Neville as well, and Harry found himself caught up in it.

"I knew you'd be fine!" Luna said in a matter-of-fact manner when Harry finally waded his way through the crowd – the two captured Death Eaters in tow – and back to his compartment, where they were set down and guarded by some of the more enthusiastic students. "I'd have come to watch but I'm too short to see over other people. You can show me in a pensieve later anyway."

"Uh… thank you, Luna."

Luna just smiled and resumed her humming.

Harry sat down next to her and Hermione took the spot beside him. Neville and Ron sat beside each other on the other side. Ron just stared at Harry unabashedly while Neville winced a bit when he moved his facial muscles in a certain manner.

The train slowed to a stand-still.

"Hey, Neville," Harry started, and to which Neville perked up, wincing in the process.

"Yeah, Harry?"

Harry smiled at him.

"Consider the DA back on."


	2. The First Plans and the Prophecy

A/N: Thanks to chem prof for his beta work.

_**Chapter 2: The First Plans and the Prophecy**_

Within minutes from Harry entering his compartment, the Hogwarts Express was swamped by Aurors. Approximately fifteen minutes had passed since the screams had signaled the start of the attack. Harry briefly considered how many would've died had this been a massacre attempt.

It didn't exactly inspire faith in the Ministry and its new Minister to Harry.

The Aurors that came in the first wave consisted of a dozen individuals. However, Harry only recognized one. Without her customary pink bubblegum hair, Tonks looked run-down and ill. Her attitude didn't mimic her appearance, however.

"Harry!" Tonks exclaimed as she caught sight of him, forgetting that they weren't supposed to know each other. She was alone, thankfully. "What in Merlin's name happened? And who are these two?" she added at the sight of the two currently unknown Death Eaters.

Harry felt Hermione jump at the sudden noise through the seat. Sparing her a glance, he faced the clumsy Auror. "Bellatrix and two other Death Eaters were somehow onboard. We heard screams, went to investigate and ended up dueling them."

"B-Bellatrix was here?" Tonks stuttered at the mention of her psychotic aunt. She was one of the most feared of Voldemort's followers, after all.

"Auror Tonks!" a deep voice called out, snapping the metamorphmagus back to battle readiness. She called out to let her location be known and stepped outside the compartment, taking the captured Death Eaters with her. Once the door was closed, she engaged in conversation with who Harry assumed was her boss in the field.

Harry remained seated and wondered what was going to happen to next. The remainder of his trip to Hogwarts would probably be spent answering questions. You couldn't say he lived a dull life.

A minute later a different Auror entered the compartment. The man was tall, dark haired, with light brown eyes. He was carrying a white notebook with a black quill, hovering, waiting to begin recording his questioning. The Auror introduced himself as Williamson.

"I am here to ask you questions regarding your confrontation with the Death Eaters Rowle, Travers and Lestrange, if your peers are to be believed," Williamson spoke in an official tone, with a shred of disbelief edging its way into his voice at the mention of Bellatrix. "Tell me what happened from the top."

Harry spent the next hour reciting the events of the encounter with Williamson and then Tonks when he was asked to begin again. He was immensely grateful when the Auror said that he was done and, after minor pleasantries, left. Another, unnamed, Auror had come into the compartment sometime into the second explanation and reported that all the students were accounted for and unharmed. Moments afterwards another entered to report that after a thorough search there were no other stowaways.

With a final nod in Harry's direction – a sign of respect, possibly – Williamson left the compartment. Harry turned his attention to Tonks, who remained behind and was giving him scrutinizing looks. "I suppose you have some non-Ministry concerned questions for me?" he half-asked half-stated.

Tonks nodded and cast a Silencing Charm on the doorway. "Do you know what they were after?" she asked immediately.

Indeed, what had they been after? They'd boarded the Hogwarts Express, something unprecedented in its long history, and not hurt anyone at all. Harry had expected this and, not knowing how much Tonks was privy too, thought of what he would say while he'd been reciting his tale the second time.

"Me."

Tonks was unconvinced. "Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Why is he always after me?"

He found himself darkly amused now that he actually knew the answer to that very question. Hermione and Neville were giving him curious looks. Luna was ignoring everything except her magazine, and Ron was staring out the window.

"There's nothing more you can tell me?" Tonks eventually asked, having decided Harry was being truthful.

"I've already said what happened." Harry replied. "Twice, in fact."

Sighing, Tonks stood up and cancelled the Silencing Charm. "Dumbledore will want to speak with you." Having told Harry that, she bade farewell to the five of them and left the compartment.

Harry closed his eyes and leant backwards, releasing a bit of the tension in his shoulders. He was still drained from the experience of using two wands at once. This was probably why he'd never seen it before; it tired the user out too quickly.

Throughout most of the last hour, only Harry, Neville and Hermione had spoken, since they were the ones involved in the fight and therefore questioned. Ron and Luna had kept quiet for the entire time, either listening or off in their own world. Now, however, Ron had questions.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked shortly. His face was beginning to flush the trademark Weasley red. That was never a good sign.

Harry sat back up straight and looked at his first ever friend confusedly. "Sorry?"

Hermione answered first, her tone surprisingly scathing. "Usually, Ronald, when someone gets attacked, you don't have the leisure of waiting."

"Wait, wait, what's wrong?"

"Ron's upset that he was left behind." Hermione replied immediately.

"That's crazy." Harry said dumbfounded. "You're not serious, are you Ron?"

Ron ignored Harry's question and respond to Hermione instead. "Well, you three were off so quickly –"

"–We don't get time to hesitate in battles, Ron." Neville cut across him, surprising all three of them. "I thought we all learned that in the DA, and if not then at the Department of Mysteries." Seeing the look Ron was giving him, he added, "That isn't to say we're perfect. We all hesitated during the fight but this time we weren't outnumbered so it wasn't as big a problem."

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said exasperatedly, seeing he wasn't convinced. "It could just as easily been any one else in there but it wasn't. That's how it turned out. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and be thankful we're all right and there are two more captured Death Eaters."

"Feeling sorry for myself?!" Ron yelled, incensed. Hermione appeared to touch a nerve. "Who said I was feeling sorry for myself?"

"At first I thought a Wrackspurt had you," Luna chimed in from behind her newspaper. She had stopped humming while she listened to Harry's tale. "I thought I felt one in here but it left ages ago. I have to agree with Hermione. You're very easy to read, Ronald."

Ron was about to yell at her next, but Harry stopped him. "Don't, Ron. You're overreacting." He then continued at the sight of more of the infamous Weasley red claiming his friend's face. "We'll say it again. We moved quicker. Had it been ten minutes beforehand, it would've been you, Hermione and me most likely. What's your problem?"

"I-It's always been us…" Ron replied weakly. Harry and Hermione shared raised eyebrows.

"Unless I'm mistaken, you're still here," Harry said sarcastically.

Sighing, Ron sank back into the seat and closed his eyes. "All right," he said. "Let's just not argue anymore."

Hermione was about to say _'well you started it'_, but Harry saw that coming and covered her mouth, and shook his head in a discouraging way.

The five of them sat in silence for the remainder of the trip, each rapt up in their own thoughts.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade a little later than usual. The hundreds of students between the ages eleven to seventeen chattered away loudly about their summers, the upcoming feast, the attack on the train and other assorted topics as they made their way to the carriages that took them the last leg of the trip to Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione, Luna, Neville and Ron got into a Thestral drawn carriage together.

Harry stared outside the left of the carriage as the scenery passed; contemplating what he would do this year. He needed to learn more magic, learn how to fight so he could properly defend himself. The prophecy ensured that need. There was no luxury of time, he had to learn and it had to be now. At least he had proper motivation.

Ron was doing the same on the other side of the carriage. He had always been the last son, behind five others with their own achievements to their name. What could he possibly do to stand out? Head Boy, Prefect, Quidditch Captain had all be done before. Until the first day of Hogwarts, when he unknowingly befriended Harry Potter, there was nothing. That was when his life changed forever.

His best friend was the most famous child in Magical Britain, and perhaps the entire magical society. At first, Ron was ecstatic to stand side-by-side to a living, breathing hero. Then he began to fall into the background.

It wasn't like that at first. Harry had required his help during his first adventure, the retrieval of the Philosopher's Stone. He'd even been recognized for it, much to his surprise and happiness. He was awarded fifty house points and a commendation from the Headmaster himself for defeating Professor McGonagall's enchanted chess set. That was something his brothers had no claim to.

It was when the Tri-Wizard Tournament began that Ron really felt his was falling into Harry's shadow. It was Harry this, Harry that. The girls wanted to date him, and he had managed to trick his way into the Tournament. Or so he'd thought.

He'd abandoned his best friend when he'd been needed. Ron had felt immensely ashamed of himself when Harry stood up to a dragon by himself, in a competition designed for students three years older than him.

Ron's inferiority complex, initiated by his older brothers' continued achievements, only grew as a consequence to the actions of Harry Potter. Everything Ron did, Harry did something better. Quidditch, grades, during their adventures, Harry was in front always.

He'd escaped his brother's shadows only to fall into Harry's.

The Department of Mysteries had quietly been the chance Ron was looking for to enter the limelight again, to prove he was just as good as Harry. But he'd been the first to be struck down useless with a Confundus Charm.

He felt inadequate, lying in his hospital bed, recovering from the injuries he received that night. He'd been no help to Harry, proven nothing to anyone. Even Ginny had lasted longer than he had.

Then the final straw came. Today, the attack on the Hogwarts Express, Ron had not even been around to help Harry. Neville, the boy who everyone picked on, made fun of, had taken his rightful spot with Harry and Hermione. That was it, no matter what Harry and Hermione had said to talk him down, that was it. He'd made a decision.

His family had secrets and these secrets were going to help him get something Harry didn't have.

He'd have to thank his mother when he saw her at Christmas.

Neville let out a hiss of pain as the carriage bumped and he accidentally touched his newly forming bruises, bringing Ron out of his thoughts. Seeing nothing warranting his attention, Ron returned to his quiet contemplation.

"You all right, mate?" asked Harry. Hermione was giving him worried looks too.

"I'll be fine once I see Madam Pomfrey." Neville replied gingerly. He was trying not to move too much to prevent them from aching.

Sighing, Neville thought about how far he'd come. He'd never expected when he first came to Hogwarts to be fighting side-by-side with Harry Potter.

Having lost his parents to Bellatrix Lestrange early in life, Neville had grown up under the care of his strict grandmother's, Augusta Longbottom's, care. She was an intimidating elderly woman and Neville had grown up under that intimidation. It left him timid, shy and prone to make mistakes.

He'd arrived at Hogwarts as one of the few students to have a toad as a pet, one that constantly tried to escape. He also was one of the few that didn't have his own wand. He was using his father's wand by the wishes of his grandmother. She adored his father and wanted Neville to grow up into a man just like him, and that included the same wand. The expectations weighed on him and he was often the boy that was picked on due to his chubby face and lack of confidence.

His ill-suited wand and he came to a comfortable medium by fifth year when he joined the DA to learn to defend himself. There was a raw need inside Neville that the wand responded to, which allowed it to perform at its best for him. That very wand was broken during the Department of Mysteries fight. Neville's first thought had been…

_Gran is going to kill me…_

Thankfully, Augusta Longbottom was so proud of him for fighting the Death Eaters alongside Harry Potter, and being the only other left standing at the end, she'd bought him his own wand, one that fitted him perfectly.

His first years at Hogwarts had been littered with embarrassing incidents and mistakes, especially in Professor Snape's class. Harry and Hermione had helped him in little ways since he'd met them, and for that he was grateful. Quietly, he'd promised himself to help them, to repay them in some way. That promise had been called upon last year when Neville had seen Ginny being manhandled by Crabbe and Goyle. Interfering then led him down a path he never looked back from, a path he did not regret taking, leading directly to a confrontation with a dozen Death Eaters. He was determined, more than ever, to prove himself capable. And he had.

This signaled a new beginning for Neville Longbottom, a fresh start for him and his abilities. He promised himself to do his very best, to prove he was strong wizard and deserving of his grandmother's praise. That promise had been called upon today, and he'd proven to himself that he was capable. He'd stood up and not looked back when he faced with certain peril, alongside Harry and Hermione.

Neville Longbottom was no longer the chubby, accident prone, poor excuse for a wizard that stumbled through the Fat Lady with his legs locked together in his first year. He was as Gryffindors were characterized – loyal and brave – and Harry was to thank for that.

Neville was loyal to Harry, and he would stand beside him without hesitation.

A soft humming sound disrupted his thoughts. Luna, the strange girl that he couldn't figure out, was sitting there, looking straight ahead, with a smile on her face. Neville wasn't sure what to make of that. The carriage went over another bump and Neville winced again.

_I just wish fighting wasn't so painful…_

Luna heard another hiss of pain but knew her friend would be fine in a few hours.

Luna Lovegood was a peculiar individual. She knew that and didn't mind. She had long since accepted that others couldn't see or accept the existence of some creatures that she and her father could, and long since accepted that she would be teased for it.

Then along came Harry Potter.

At first she knew he thought she was loony, just like everyone else, but they ended up meeting several times throughout her fourth year and just talking. Nothing spectacular. Nothing mind boggling. Just talking.

She understood that they were both outcasts. Harry was stuck in the middle of a school war, with the student body unable to choose whether or not to believe him about the return of Voldemort. She was an outcast because of her beliefs. She knew of her nickname, 'Loony', but it didn't bother her. If that's what they thought, that's what they thought. She wouldn't try and change that. She was who she was. True friends would appreciate her through her eccentricities. Though she was sure he didn't believe the Crumbled Horned Snorkack existed like so many others, Harry still talked to her as an equal and never once insulted her.

His friends were a little less welcoming.

Hermione was the antithesis of Luna. She believed in things only if there were facts to back it up and logic ruled her life. Luna on the other hand, believed in things even if there was no evidence. Faith was enough. Luna found Hermione narrow-minded and she knew Hermione thought little of her, but there were moments when they acted like friends.

Ronald was mean to her, like most of the other students, but it no longer bothered her.

Ginny was in most of her classes and they often sat together. Luna thought Ginny was a nice person who enjoyed her 'quirkiness', and considered her to be her first friend.

Neville didn't know what to think, she was sure of that. He couldn't make up his mind if she was 'loony' or not. He eventually stopped caring if she was sane or not and they got along well enough.

Luna Lovegood had never had a friend until she met Ginny Weasley. Now that she had met Harry Potter, she knew she had a friend for life.

Luna knew she appeared unintelligent to others even though she was in Ravenclaw. What people didn't know was that she was a very observant girl. During their fourth year, Luna had noticed Ginny slowly changing. She wasn't sure why, or what caused the changes. All she could determine was that it had something to do with Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.

Now that Ginny had taken a sudden interest in boys, Luna had been increasingly left out of Ginny's life. That was alright with her though. She had Harry.

Again, her observant nature allowed her to know exactly what she was getting into when she went to the Ministry of Magic that night in June. Harry was her best friend and she was going to help him no matter what.

The DA that she attended that year helped her become much stronger than she had been before, strong enough to defend herself in a battle against Death Eaters. She was the last of the six to fall that actually fell during the battle, proving that she was not some crazy air-head to her friends once and for all.

She knew instantly that Harry would take care of whoever screamed out. He did that. Nobody needed to have worried, and she didn't.

Luna was happy, and so she continued to hum to herself. Her life was improving by the day.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The castle came into view as the Thestrals pulled students, second year and older, deeper into the grounds. Harry, despite his many near death experiences and injuries here, despite how he was often viewed by his peers and despite the abuse he received from Snape and Umbridge, felt he was finally returning to only place he could currently consider calling home. Privet Drive had never been home, nor was Hogwarts now, but it was the closest he had.

Once the carriage pulled up outside the Entrance Hall, Harry disembarked from the carriage, and then helped Hermione and Luna down. Neville and Ron joined them on the other side and the five of them made the rest of the way to the Great Hall.

"Hey, Potter!" a voice called out, and Harry internally sighed. He knew there was something missing from his return to Hogwarts, and here it was.

"Malfoy." Harry acknowledged tiredly. "You called?"

Malfoy put on his customary sneer, standing in-between his usual servants Crabbe and Goyle, who apparently failed to grow any more intelligent looking over the summer. "Can't go one day without doing something that makes you news can you, Potter?"

"Guess not," Harry replied, shrugging. "Though I missed you on the train, Malfoy, how come you didn't come and visit? I suppose harboring three Death Eaters in your compartment is a full day commitment though, hey, Malfoy?"

He heard Hermione and Neville gasp behind him and saw Malfoy tense up slightly. He managed to hide the rest of his surprise but it was enough.

"Thought so," Harry said. He then turned and started walking into the Great Hall, leaving a flustered Malfoy standing in the entrance of Hogwarts.

There was no way Harry was going to let Malfoy walk all over him again this year. He'd had enough. With all that he needed to accomplish before the year was out, day in and day out insults would be a distraction he wasn't willing to let happen.

Harry said his goodbyes to Luna and proceeded to sit down at the Gryffindor table with his fellow sixth years. He saw Ginny and Dean sitting a little ways up the table. He caught her eye and she gave him a smile and wave before resuming her conversation with Dean, Seamus and some fourth year he didn't recognize.

Hermione sat down next to him with an expression that meant business. "Harry, explain."

"Every year, each train ride to Hogwarts, we've had a visit from Malfoy correct?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded. Harry looked her eyes and said, "His words last year, _'you're going to pay. I'm going to make you pay for what you did to my father.'_ I know you weren't there, but look me in eyes and tell me he wouldn't be serious."

Hermione held his gaze for a full minute before sighing and dropping it. "What makes you think that he was harboring the Death Eaters then?"

"Because he's a Death Eater…" Harry began. Hermione huffed, Ron looked at him disbelievingly and Neville looked at him, shocked. "…he wouldn't be about to dob in their hiding place would he?" Harry continued without pause.

"Harry, we've discussed this –" Hermione started before Ron interrupted.

"–He can't be a Death Eater mate, he's too young."

Harry glared at the both of them. _How can they not understand that age doesn't matter?_

"Not this again." Harry sighed. "He's the same age as us and we've been in this war since we were eleven. I've been in since…" Harry stopped himself. He nearly said _'before I was born.'_ He wasn't quite prepared to mention the Prophecy in the Great Hall when anyone could hear. Thankfully, neither Ron nor Hermione showed any indications that they figured what he was going to say.

"That's a little different mate, we –"

"–How is it different?" Harry interrupted. "We, full well knowing what may have happened, went after Quirrell that night. We chose to participate. You've seen Malfoy and his father together. They're just like each other. Don't tell me you think deep down inside he's just a boy starved for attention?"

Ron snorted. "Hardly, but –"

"–But?"

"Harry," Hermione cut in. "He wouldn't. He's a schoolyard bully, not some killer, or accomplice."

"Says who?" he retorted impatiently. "Half the Slytherins are in Malfoy's camp and are shoe-ins for the next generation of Death Eaters. You're acting like the Ministry has been. I just hope you'll realize it before you get hurt." Harry finished coldly, turning away.

He was sick of it. How could someone so smart be so unwilling to accept defeat? Some part of her had to know Harry was right… right?

Hermione looked ready to continue, but saw Professor Dumbledore stand and silenced herself. She gave Harry a 'this isn't over' look, which he failed to see since he had turned away, and turned her attention to Dumbledore.

Harry was so deep in his own thoughts he didn't listen to anything the Headmaster said and didn't even react when the feast appeared in front of his eyes. He ate slowly, ignoring Hermione and Ron and decided to strike up conversation with Neville who sat across from him. His fellow Gryffindor had not said a word during the exchange, instead sitting by listening to both sides of the argument. Neville wasn't ready to make a decision on who was right, not that he had the full details, but wasn't as quick to dismiss the notion that Malfoy was planning on being a Death Eater at the very least considering his attitude and parentage.

An hour later, the feast finally disappeared, much to Ron's dismay, and Dumbledore once again rose, stopping the drone of several hundred students having several hundred different conversations.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore spoke and everyone, minus the majority of the Slytherins, hung on every word. "We have dark and difficult times ahead of us, but we are as safe here as you could be anywhere. As the Sorting Hat has said, house unity can ward off the war from our doorsteps and keep it outside where it belongs."

"Now, as always, the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden…"

Harry stopped listening as the normal announcements began.

_House unity, huh? Most of the Slytherins are in the Death Eaters' corner as it is. I'll have to find out just who isn't following Malfoy to know who I can trust if it comes to that._

"One more thing before you can retire for the evening. The Hogwarts Express…" Harry's ears perked up at this, "…was attacked earlier as you all know." Many of the students turned towards Harry who dutifully ignored them. "Two Death Eaters were captured and will be in Azkaban by morning. You are all safe at Hogwarts. So worry not. Remember classes begin tomorrow so off you trot!"

And with that, several hundred students rose and left the hall, chatting amongst themselves as they headed to their dormitories. Neville left for the Hospital Wing, complaining that it hurt to chew, while Hermione and Ron and the two fifth year prefects gathered the first years and led them up to Gryffindor Tower. Harry on the other hand, left towards Dumbledore's office, saving the need to be called upon.

The two gargoyles that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office were motionless and silent as he waited for the Headmaster to arrive from the feast. He did not have to wait long.

Professor Dumbledore walked purposefully towards his office. Just by watching him, Harry could feel the respect that he'd earned, not demanded, rise within him.

"Harry! I see you have taken the initiative and saved me the trouble of disturbing you on your trek to your common room. Excellent."

"Yes, sir. I figured you'd want a word," Harry replied.

Dumbledore stopped in front of the stone gargoyles, nodded at Harry, and turned back to the statues. "Screaming yo-yo's." The stairs appeared between the statues and Dumbledore and Harry climbed onto the revolving stairwell.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and raised an eyebrow. "Screaming yo-yo's, sir?"

"I find amusement in the inventions that seemed to be designed simply to irritate Argus." he said with a chuckle. The stairs stopped and the two disembarked and entered the office. "Not to mention how unexpected it is," he added with a wiser tone.

Harry found himself in the very same office that he had trashed three months earlier in a fit of rage. He had smashed several of the Professor's peculiar items. Now they all seemed to have been repaired.

"I'm sorry, sir," he began, thinking back to that night.

"For trashing my office, Harry?" Dumbledore finished for him. He chuckled again. "Quite all right, Harry. It was an emotional evening and I hardly helped you with it at all. Now," he offered a seat to Harry, which he took, and then sat down on the other side of the table. "Shall we discuss today's events?"

"Bella was after my wand," Harry summarized.

Dumbledore didn't show any reaction with his movements, something he had undoubtedly perfected during his many years. "What makes you believe that, Harry?"

Harry related to Dumbledore the fight. Dumbledore sat quietly throughout Harry's tale, staring into his eyes, making him feel uncomfortable.

Over the summer, Harry had practiced Occlumency in the best way he could without materials to guide to try and help with his grief and to use up his long days alone. He was confident he had better than average shields and understood that eye contact greatly assisted in Legilimency. He was also confident that Dumbledore wasn't reading his mind as he felt nothing enter his mind, as he had always felt when Snape had. He figured that something as foreign as a Legilimens probe would always be noticeable, no matter how subtle.

When Harry finished talking, Dumbledore continued to stare into his eyes, not speaking. Harry held his gaze, occasionally blinking when he could no longer prevent it.

Eventually the Headmaster sighed at leaned back into his chair. "I concur with your assessment, Harry. I had heard the tale from Tonks just prior to the feast. She told me that you were their target."

Harry stiffened at this. "You haven't told the Order that Voldemort and I share brother wands." It was more a statement than a question.

"Correct," Dumbledore confirmed. "I felt this information should be kept secret. I am correct in assuming you haven't told Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger?"

Harry looked uncomfortable at this. It had crossed his mind but he never got around to it. It was still something he wasn't sure he wanted to share. "No, sir."

Dumbledore nodded and picked out a lemon drop for himself. Harry politely refused when offered one. "I believe you may have some questions for me, Harry."

Harry hadn't any idea how Dumbledore discerned that. However, it didn't matter as Harry took advantage of the offer and made a play he'd been thinking of since his stay at the Dursleys.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Harry started. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the right words. "The Prophecy says that I must be the one to finish off Voldemort. I've made my peace with that." Harry by all means did not want to kill a person, but he would kill Voldemort to rid the world of the threat he created.

Dumbledore didn't react. Harry took a breath and continued. "I am no match for him at the moment. I have survived encounters with him four times now, and I know, if it came down to an all duel, I can't win… yet." Harry added belatedly. Dumbledore still didn't react and so Harry took another breath and finished his request.

"I want to use this year to get stronger and learn more. Regular classes… aren't enough. I am learning of course, but I need to learn to defend myself from the Death Eaters, Voldemort and whatever else he'll use against me. If all it took was regular classes, then the Death Eaters wouldn't be so feared."

Dumbledore picked out another lemon drop and popped it in his mouth before talking. "I understand your desperation to learn to protect yourself and the ones you care about, Harry. Are you prepared to undergo far more intensive classes this year? Are you prepared to take away your last dredges of childhood?"

Harry, for a brief second, hesitated. A part of him was not ready to let go of what childhood he had salvaged here at Hogwarts. Another part of him knew that he never really had a childhood. The Dursleys, Malfoy and Voldemort had effectively taken that away from. Sure, he had the occasional childhood thrills and spills during his years at Hogwarts. But the Prophecy, if the Chamber of Secrets hadn't or if the Dementors hadn't or if the return of Voldemort hadn't, removed the last chance of childhood he would have.

Harry locked eyes with Dumbledore. "Yes," said Harry with determination.

Dumbledore simply nodded and opened a drawer on his right side. He pulled out a piece of a paper, tapped it three times with his wand and put it back in the drawer. Harry gave the Headmaster a questioning look.

"I just let Minerva, Filius, Pomona, Serverus and Horace know that you be taking special classes the year," Dumbledore answered. "I didn't want to believe it would happen, but I expected this. I am, as are they, prepared for you."

"You will be taking regular classes… I assume that Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, Herbology and Potions were the classes you intended to continue?" Harry nodded. "You will be taking regular classes, but to accommodate the extra classes, and to make sure you get a decent night's rest, you won't receive any homework besides the regular note taking you will do so you can pass your written NEWTs next year. Instead you will be having extra classes with each of them to learn more specialized material."

Dumbledore had been looking directly into Harry's eyes as he said all this. It had to be a tactic.

"There is something else you wish to add, Harry?"

"Sir," Harry said, surprised. Whatever happened in the next year or two, Harry found himself wanting to know how to do that. "I want to continue the DA from the last year."

"In a more… official capacity I assume?" asked Dumbledore, a trace of good humor in his voice.

"Would make things a right easier, sir."

"Right you are, Harry. Is there something you wish to add as to the nature of Dumbledore's Army?"

Harry marveled at the Headmaster's perceptiveness and decided to reveal his real purpose, the one that he had figured out over the summer, the one that he had spent two months mulling over in his head.

"The war has its fighters, sir. This generation is growing in the war. The students here, especially the Muggleborns, will be targets. I want to train some people I know I can trust to fight when the time comes." Harry took a breath. "I am not alone in this. Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny and Ron made me well aware of that when they followed me to the Ministry in June. Nowhere in the Prophecy does it say I can't have my own group." Harry smiled wryly. "Voldemort has his Death Eaters. The Ministry has its Aurors. You have the Order of the Phoenix. I want to have my own army; an army that will train the rest when the time comes, and help me along the way."

Dumbledore smiled again, this time wistfully. "You're growing up, Harry. Much earlier than I wished, and I am surprised, but pleased, that you have been able to take Sirius's passing and the contents of the Prophecy so well. It will be the way you want it to be."

"Thank you." Harry replied sincerely. He hadn't expected to be so easily accepted.

"However, I recommend you fly under the radar, so to speak." Dumbledore warned. "If Tom finds out you have your own group… they will become high priority targets, as will anyone related to them." Dumbledore paused. "And other students will have more reason to dislike you due to my favoritism."

Harry couldn't help think that was the least of the possible problems this set up could cause.

"Now!" Dumbledore suddenly said brightly. "I believe it's time you went to bed. You have a busy day ahead of you now. I'm sure Ms. Granger at least is awaiting you in the common room. You shouldn't keep her waiting for too long."

Harry, extremely pleased with how readily accepted his requests were, as he had expected a fair bit more resistance, bade goodnight and made his way up to down the staircase.

_I have extra lessons. I'll spend this year training so when I see Voldemort again, I'll be ready._

Feeling better than he had for a long while, Harry climbed the stairs to his common room and warm bed that awaited him atop Gryffindor Tower.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry winced as he held onto a handrail on one of the many moving staircases as he neared Gyrffindor Tower. He had forgotten the pain until a few minutes ago. His 'welcome' from Malfoy, argument with Ron and Hermione, the feast and his conversation with the Headmaster had drowned out the pain, but now that he was winding down for the night, his bruised knuckles ached whenever he moved them.

_Note to self: don't punch people in the face so much._

All things considered, though, today had been a good day. His meeting with the Headmaster had gone well; he'd gotten what he wanted – extra classes and the reformation of the DA. Harry had not expected to be received so well. The Headmaster had always been less than receiving of his pleas before. What was different this time?

With Snape as the Defense Professor this year, the school might actually have an adequate Defense course for once. Given the history, it probably wouldn't last.

Consequently, for this year, they might have a teacher that knew the stuff. So why continue the DA? Snape would let them learn spells. Given his methods in Potions, Snape wouldn't spend much time, if any, on theory.

But students wouldn't get the chance to use their Defense knowledge in any real life situation unless the DA was active. They could practice outside of class freely and bounce ideas, aid and spells off one another. Just one question remained in Harry's mind. Who should he ask to join him?

Harry was forced to put that question on hold when he found himself in front of the Fat Lady. "Uh…"

"Lack the password, deary?" the Fat Lady asked in a tired tone. "No entry then."

As if having being watched, Harry heard footsteps approaching from behind him. He turned to greet the owner.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall addressed him. "You don't know the password I presume?" Her mouth twitched in her sole sign of amusement.

"Yes, ma'am, I was with Professor Dumbledore and forgot to ask for the password."

Ignoring his explanation, she continued in what was her actual purpose here. "I've heard that you will be taking extra classes this year to accommodate your… desire to be able to defend yourself. I strongly urge you to give it your all in these classes. I suggest you try and find the same passion for learning that Ms. Granger is so well known for. These classes will be difficult, and I will not alone you to be tardy or unfocused."

"Don't worry, Professor." Harry replied. "I'm motivated." _And then some_.

Satisfied that Harry had gotten her message, McGonagall turned to leave. "Oh, and the password is 'Cheshire'." The Fat Lady, who had been quiet during the short talk, opened to allow Harry access.

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said and climbed through the portrait door.

The common room looked the same as it always did. Several roaring fires filled the room with comfortable warmth that Harry savored after coming in from the cold castle. On one of the couches in front of the fire that Sirius had poked his head through twice was Hermione. She looked up from a book, which Harry took a stab at and guessed to be the newest version of "Hogwarts: A History". It was rumored to have a paragraph mentioning the Weasley twins' antics from previous years. He had not bothered to find out if it was true or not.

"Hermione?".

There was nobody else left in the room and Harry was mildly surprised that she was still up and that Ron was not with her too.

"There you are, Harry. Ron went to bed already." Hermione said as if reading his mind. "A first year stepped on his foot when the Bloody Baron floated by on the way up," she added to Harry's questioning look. "He… didn't take it well."

Emitting a small snort, Harry sat down next to her on the couch and stared into the fire. "Sorry, Hermione," he began. "For the way I was before the feast."

Hermione studied Harry as he continued to stare into the fire. He felt her gaze and wondered what she was noticing about his demeanor.

"I am too," said Hermione suddenly. Harry turned to her with a question on his lips, but Hermione continued before he could say anything. "For the way I was too. I should be listening to your concerns about Malfoy but some part of me just doesn't want to believe. How could there be a sixteen year old Death Eater amongst us? We're still students! Homework and NEWTs should be on our minds, not how to kill the person across from you."

Hermione lifted her feet off the ground and maneuvered herself to be sitting crossed legged on the couch. She lowered her head, brow furrowed in concentration.

"Hermione?" he asked. "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione sighed and closed the book she was holding, which Harry absently noted was indeed 'Hogwarts: A History'. "I'm worried about you, Harry."

"Why? I mean, that's great someone does, but I'm fine." Harry replied, confused.

"Harry, we left you grieving for Sirius." Harry winced involuntarily. He was not expecting a conversation about Sirius. He felt that he had put the blame where it belonged and was moving on. What could possibly still be wrong? 

"When you came to the Burrow… you were dealing from what I could tell. While we were there, you changed. You've never been this… decisive or mature before. Not that I am saying you were immature!" Hermione backtracked when she saw Harry's expression. She sighed. "Can you just let me finish before doing anything?"

Utterly confused, Harry nodded. "When you arrived, we – Ron and I – tried to talk to you about Sirius, but that stupid invention of Fred and George's interrupted us and we never got a chance to really talk again. I wanted to be there to help you when term ended. Then Dumbledore told us we couldn't visit or Owl you."

"Gee that's new," muttered Harry quietly, then quickly apologized for interrupting when Hermione glared at him.

"You were as I expected you to be. I could see it in your eyes, that you were hurting. You prefer to keep your guilt inside of you. But, Harry! It'll eat at you if you don't talk about it. Just talk to me about Sirius please?"

Harry's mind went into overdrive. Hermione was rarely wrong. Had he really moved on? Was he just bottling things up or was Hermione just being strange? That seemed unlikely. This was Hermione after all. She was _very_ rarely wrong.

"What do you want me to say, Hermione?" he asked more coldly than he intended. "I can't do the 'I wish' thing. It won't help anyone to wish he was still alive."

Hermione looked both hurt and angry at Harry's unintentional coldness. "Please, Harry…" she trailed off.

Perplexed at why she pushing the subject, Harry faced her and tried to examine her in the way he felt many adults had done to him over the years.

It didn't help.

"What?" Harry asked as gently as he could.

Hermione looked up at her best friend. "I-I…I need it too." Hermione whispered. She started, realizing what she had said and looked away. Harry looked at her aghast.

"The day you and I saved him was one the most confusing, topsy-turvy, best days of my life." Harry said after awhile. Hermione looked up, shocked, with unreleased grief radiating off her face.

"I know you think that I didn't like him, Harry," Hermione began. "I know you think I disapproved of him because he saw you as a second James and his reckless ways…but I liked him too. He was important to you and therefore to me too."

Hermione changed positions so she had her knees in front of her face with her head resting on them, looking at Harry. When she spoke next, he could hear the tears that she had held in for three months. "There's something I haven't told you. Harry, you were my first ever friend."

Harry stared at her in shock, again.

_I was her first friend? Didn't she have friends in Muggle School? Didn't she have cousins or something that she spent time with before Hogwarts?_

"My parents were both only children so I don't have any cousins." Hermione said, as if reading his mind again. "My grandparents on both sides are dead and so are their brothers and sisters. My parents and I are the only ones left in our family without having to go back generations to find some distant relatives."

"Because of my crazy hair," to illustrate the point she picked up a bit of bushy, brown hair and flicked it away. "And my large front teeth that I used to have, I was teased a lot in primary school. I suppose because of that I retreated into reading books. I finished everything in my parents' library by the end of my second year of school. I even read the books I didn't understand, just for something to read."

She stopped and smiled wistfully for a moment. "My first piece of magic was the following year. I was reading a series of books that were incredible. Detail, storyline, characters… The final book had recently come out when my parents took me to see the doctor, since I had a really bad cold. In the shopping centre, we passed a book store. I asked my mum if I could get the book I wanted. She said she'd think about it. On our way back, we passed the same store, but didn't stop. Right then, I wished for nothing more than to have that last book."

Hermione looked into Harry's eyes and gave him a small smile. "My piece of magic was a Summoning Charm." Harry blinked, then his eyes widened in understanding.

"Leave it to you to use, for your first piece of magic, a spell that took me until two a.m. the night before the First Task to learn, to get a book, on your first try."

Hermione laughed, and Harry couldn't resist joining it. The two of them kept at for several moments. The tension that had emerged eased.

Before Harry could speak, he heard a creak coming from the female dorms. He turned his head in the direction of the stairs. Hermione had heard it too, but neither saw anyone.

"All that time…" Hermione continued, turning back to Harry. "From when I first arrived at primary school till you saved me from the troll, I spent all my time in books. I still do," she added with a laugh.

Hermione wiped her eyes free of unshed tears. "You're probably wondering what this has to do with Sirius." Harry didn't say anything. Hermione was letting out a part of herself that she had never done before, not to anyone, and he knew enough about the situation to let her speak and not make an idiot out of himself.

Whatever maturity he had gained over the summer just did not help when it came to females.

"You and I share similar backgrounds, Harry," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I did have a loving family though. Sirius…" she paused, and then rushed out the next part. "Sirius was your last real chance at having a parent, Harry. I wanted so much for you to have what I was able to have. We both were friendless, but I had a family."

"When you told me that Sirius asked you to live with him after we helped him escape, my heart broke. Your last chance at a loving parent was flying away on a Hippogriff and I couldn't do anything to help you. Then V-Voldemort returned and we all half lived at Grimmauld Place. I thought for sure that you'd be able to live as a family with Sirius."

"W-when I found out he had, that Bellatrix had… I felt that you just lost your last chance at a loving parent. All summer, before I went to the Burrow, I couldn't help but imagine what would have happened if my parents didn't love me or I didn't have them. I only made it to Hogwarts because of them. The Hogwarts entrance letter was like a second chance for me. I could go to a whole different world, one where I actually belong and I could make friends for the first time!"

Hermione turned to stare into the fire. A piece of kindling collapsed as the fire ate away at it. _Change_…

Harry continued to sit quietly, absorbing everything his best friend was telling him. All the things he never knew about her past.

"Then I came here and I was shunned straight away, just like before. My appearance and now my love of learning and reading turned people off before they even got to know me. Even you didn't like me," Hermione added as an afterthought.

Harry couldn't deny that. He had arrived at a place that was so… different from his Dudley shadowed school life and he wanted to enjoy it rather than sit down and study. He didn't hate Hermione. He hadn't approved of how rude Ron was towards her, yet he never did anything about it. Harry Potter was no saint. He was as fallible as the next person.

"I put up with it because this world is so incredible. I couldn't believe I was apart of it and I didn't want to leave. But it never let up. On Halloween, what Ron said was the last straw. I cried and cried and cried in that bathroom for hours till I couldn't anymore. I decided I wasn't going to stay here anymore. I wanted to return home and be a Muggle again. I couldn't bear to deal with another world that hated me. At least in the Muggle world I lived with my parents and not amongst those who hated me."

"Then along came the famous, Harry Potter." Hermione quickly smiled at him and then looked back into the fire. "You saved my life that night."

"I was sure that I was going to die when that troll appeared. I couldn't imagine anyone would rescue me or even care that I had died at this place. I still can't do a thing to repay you." Hermione shook her head, her bushy hair bouncing all over the place. "When you saved me, I knew there still hope for me in this world. So I stayed. I don't regret not leaving, regardless of the danger I get in when I'm around you, Harry."

Hermione turned back to Harry again, and leaned forward. She grabbed Harry's hands and squeezed them, looking into his eyes. "I know you're worried about us for staying with you. I know you don't want anyone else close to you to be in danger."

Hermione moved closer still and grabbed Harry in a hug, taking him off guard. For a moment, his arms were awkwardly held in mid-air. Hermione tightened her grip slightly and he slowly wrapped his arms around her and held her. "I'm not going anywhere, Harry. I don't care if I have to fight Voldemort for the right to stay by your side! Nothing you or anyone else does or can try will change that." She embraced him even tighter for a moment before releasing him.

"The only way I'm not staying with you is if I'm Confunded," Hermione grinned. She then wiped a few more tears off her face and sat back down, a little closer this time.

"Hermione," Harry whispered. "The Prophecy…" He had decided much earlier in the conversation to tell her. He couldn't bear to keep it bottled up anymore. Hermione was the person he trusted beyond anyone. He knew she would keep it a secret if he asked her to.

Then there was what she had just said. She wasn't leaving him. Not ever. The Prophecy wouldn't matter to her, would it? He had to put his trust in her. Trust that she would stick with him through and through.

Hermione had perked up at the mention of the Prophecy. "It got destroyed didn't it? Neville told me that one of the Death Eaters hit him with some spell that made him dance, the Tarantallegra I believe, and he accidentally kicked it across the Death Room." Hermione furrowed her brow again, a clear sign of being deep in thought.

"I still haven't gotten around to giving that room much thought," Hermione continued. "Every time I think of that night I…" she trailed off, reaching up to touch her chest. It was a gesture that went unnoticed by Harry.

"I think the Unspeakables may have been studying destiny," Hermione went on after a moment. "What other reason to keep all the Prophecies in a Ministry construct?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized something. She turned on the couch to face Harry properly. "That was only a copy wasn't it? You know it don't you?"

Harry inwardly marveled at her intelligence while nodding. "I do," he stated simply. Hermione gasped.

"Can you tell me?" she asked. Then, "You don't have to! Just… I-if you can…"

Harry leaned forwards on the couch. The fire was still burning strong even though they must have been sitting here for an hour. _"Neither can live while the other survives."_ Harry whispered.

Hermione mouthed the words to herself. "Oh, Harry, does that mean that you have to be the one to kill him?" Harry nodded.

"That's so unfair!" Hermione shouted suddenly, causing Harry to flinch back in surprise and shock. There was a muffled thump from the stairwell again. Neither Harry nor Hermione paid it much attention. "Why…why must something so heavy…why must something so serious be placed on a sixteen year old? It's not fair! You've already had to deal with so much, can't it be someone else?"

Harry had asked himself the same questions over and over. He had been through more than anyone else his age. Nobody around him had had such a difficult life. It wasn't a vain statement, he wasn't searching for pity; it was simply the truth.

"It's okay Hermione." Harry reached out and put his arm around her. He couldn't think of anything else to comfort her. _Strange, shouldn't I be the one in tears over this?_ "I've made my peace with it. I think a part of me has known for awhile now. Why else would Voldemort be constantly after me?" It was a rhetorical question, but Hermione mentioned several other reasons, each as unlikely as the next.

They sat together like that for awhile.

"I asked Professor Dumbledore for special lessons this year, aside from the ones he's already going to give me," Harry told her after awhile. "Instead of homework, I'll be having extra lessons with the Professors to get stronger, so I can fight better. I know I'm no match for him in an all out duel right now... but I will be when the time comes." Hermione grabbed onto Harry's sleeve at this. "I also asked to revive the DA officially and he said yes."

"Seriously?" Hermione sat up and looked at him with excited eyes.

"Seriously."

"Are you going to train us like you did last year?" she continued.

"Yes," Harry began. "But I don't know who I should let in. Now that it is a sanctioned club, I could really take in everyone who was interested. However, it's more complex than that. I now know that I have to be the one to finish off Voldemort, not the Aurors or Dumbledore. Merlin knows what makes me different."

Harry paused, thinking. "I spent a lot of my time at the Dursley's thinking this Prophecy business over and over. What is the point of free will if we all have a destiny? What's the point in having free will if we are already being pushed around the board like chess pieces? Are we just given the illusion of free will to keep us feeling like we have control in our lives?" He shook his head.

"I came to the conclusion that it's free will that enables destiny," he revealed. Hermione gave him a confused look. "Let me explain," he offered.

"Tom Riddle went off after school at some point and turned into the Voldemort we know and love." Hermione refrained from an undignified snort. "Until a short time before Halloween he had never heard of a Prophecy about his life or downfall. Then someone overheard the prophecy in the Hog's Head and ran off to Voldemort to tell him."

"Voldemort had a choice," Harry sighed and leaned back in the chair a bit more. Hermione leaned back with him. "He could've chosen to ignore the Prophecy. He could have chosen to not attack the new born child of a family that had defied him three times. Had he not, there would be no Boy-Who-Lived. I would've been an ordinary boy and Voldemort would not have become a specter."

"How can destiny be fulfilled if the first step isn't taken?" Harry asked rhetorically. "What would've happened to Voldemort if he hadn't come after the Potters? Right now I'm the only who can end this. Before, anyone could have done it as long as he was bested in a duel."

"So, in a way, his free will, the ability to make his own choices, created the situation we're in."

Hermione didn't respond, mulling over Harry's conclusions. It wasn't baseless conjecture at all, despite how it sounded. In a strange way, it made perfect sense. But in others, it didn't make any sense. Philosophy was not something Hermione had had the chance to delve into much. She liked reality.

"My choice right now is whether or not I create a DA where there are dozens or hundreds of students, whoever is interested, or a more limited amount that could help us."

"What do you mean?" Hermione questioned, despite being confident she knew the answer.

"Nowhere in the Prophecy does it say I can't have help." Harry said confidently. "I'm not foolish or hot-headed enough anymore to think that I can beat all the Death Eaters, Dementors and werewolves that Voldemort sends our way. What if I make my own group, my own Order of sorts?"

"Of course we're not going to be on as large a scale as the real Order is, since we _are_ still in school and _are_ underage." Harry conceded. "What if we ask a dozen or so people we can trust to train with us? A dozen or so that are willing to fight the war that the Ministry seems incapable of winning, Prophecy or no Prophecy?"

"This wouldn't be anything like last year. We can't just let in people we don't know. What if there's another Marietta? If we get people to join us in the fight against Voldemort, we'd have to fill them in on everything. A lot of that everything would be information Voldemort would love to have."

Hermione smiled, though Harry didn't notice. She had caught on, unsurprisingly, to his line of thinking. "If the Ministry has its Aurors, Voldemort has his Death Eaters and Dumbledore has his Order of the Phoenix, why shouldn't you have one? That's brilliant, Harry!"

Harry was speechless for a moment, before saying, "Those are pretty much the exact words I said to Dumbledore."

Then Harry sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"With the DA… the Sorting Hat is always talking about house unity … I've been thinking of following that advice. Each house has traits that would be invaluable. The problem is that most of Slytherin is in Malfoy's camp so unless you know any non future Death Eaters, that's never going to happen." Harry said ruefully.

Hermione stopped her thought process and glanced up at Harry. "There _is_ one I know who fits the description." Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Honestly!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "She's been my partner a few times in Ancient Runes."

"Who?"

"Daphne Greengrass." Hermione replied determinedly.

Harry's mouth dropped open.

He had come across the girl in question a few times in the halls and heard many rumors regarding one Daphne Greengrass. "From what I've heard she's a… well, a total bitch." Harry felt completely uncomfortable using that word, which was only made worse when Hermione glared at him. "Dean and Seamus's words, not mine." he mumbled in defense.

Hermione relaxed her look a bit. "She doesn't befriend easily. I think it's because she's been labeled as a Death Eater sympathizer because of her parentage and blood. She… isn't modest about it either. Daphne doesn't care enough to correct people."

"Okay then. I trust your judgment. That solves the question of 'which Slytherin to add.'" Harry yawned. It had to be well past midnight and they weren't finished yet.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but we should consider each person's usefulness when we decided who to ask." Harry winced. He sounded like he was going to use these people. Maybe, in a way, he was. He was asking them to put their lives on the line to fight against one of the two most powerful wizards known in the world.

"Don't worry, Harry, I understand. You're concerned that some people will be more of a hindrance than a help." Hermione appeased. "Poor choice of words."

Harry was silent, in thought.

"Do you have anyone in mind yet, Harry?"

"Well I don't know who I could trust more than the five that followed me to the Ministry." He grinned. "I suppose you might be wondering who besides the six of us?"

"I have a few people in mind, Harry." Harry shot her a questioning look to which Hermione added, "Well, you mentioned house unity. We should gather more than just one member from each house, right?"

"I don't expect any other Slytherins would fancy fighting side by side with us, even if Daphne would." Harry shuffled on the couch, moving into a more comfortable spot.

Hermione let Harry have his right arm back. He opened and closed his hand, making sure it maintained feeling in there. Pins and needles were a pain.

Unfortunately, Harry had been distracted again and forgot about the pain he had been in on the way back to the Tower. He hissed as it flared up in his hand again. He'd have to see Madam Pomfrey if it wasn't better by morning.

Maybe he should consider reading up on some healing magic. Merlin knew he got more injuries than half the house combined.

"It'll be fine," said Harry, noticing Hermione's inquisitive expression which changed to compassion when she remembered his punch to Bella. "It's just not used to being abused in that way."

"Can I suggest a few people?" Hermione asked, at least temporarily appeased.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, deep in thought. He flexed his hand again. It didn't hurt as much as the time before. "It's difficult to explain the type of people I'm after…"

Hermione nodded and relaxed back into the couch. "Well, others from Gyrffindor, besides Ron, Ginny, you and I would be… Katie. She trusts you and I'm sure you trust her. She was one of the few to not believe you were Slytherin's heir, second year. It's her last year too. I'm sure she would appreciate the training for her NEWTs." Hermione finished with a smile.

"What about her going to war?" Harry asked pointedly. "Instinct tells me that Voldemort won't be beaten in just a duel. How did he survive the Killing Curse the night he killed my parents? He must have performed some Dark ritual or something to make him harder to kill."

"Since the Philosopher's Stone has been destroyed," Harry went on, voicing his less certain opinions. "He can't have immortality that way. What if he had found a different way? Or, if true immortality _is_ impossible, what if he found a way to survive conventional methods? We have to ask ourselves would these people be willing to fight an enemy that might not die if you shot him in the head."

"We can ask," Hermione shrugged. At Harry's exasperated look, she elaborated. "We can ask if they are willing to fight Voldemort or not. I'm certain everyone understands the risk doing that. If we get yes's, excellent, if no's, then we know they aren't ready for it yet."

"You'll never learn if you don't ask,"

"A personal motto, Hermione?" Harry asked half kidding.

"Not quite," Hermione replied seriously. "I prefer books to questions."

Harry resisted saying 'I beg to differ' and focused instead on continuing their more important topic. "You had suggestions?"

"Let me go through my list."

Harry nodded, inwardly smiling at his best friend's love for lists. Hermione went into her explanation mode. "Parvati and Padma are two possibilities. I talked with Padma a lot last year when we went on patrol and after prefect meetings. She didn't want to believe Voldemort was back when you said so, but knew you weren't any of things they Prophet called you."

Harry was skeptical and Hermione seemed to notice. "There are people out there that are far more observant than you realize. Padma is very intelligent, a polar opposite of Parvati. Parvati is more… err, focused… on looks than fighting. Lavender is the same, which is why they get along so well."

Harry absorbed this information and decided to ask Katie in the morning. There were already six Gryffindor's in the DA; he wasn't after a group of a hundred men and women. Like he had said, he was after a dozen or so trusted people.

"Seamus didn't believe you, obviously. I think those that didn't believe you shouldn't be considered." Hermione paused. "That sounds so insensitive."

"No, you're spot on. Those that didn't believe me over the crap the Prophet droned on about all year, they didn't trust me," Harry consoled her. "Anyway, aren't we being insensitive enough by limiting who can fight with us?"

Nodding absently, Hermione went back to explanation mode. "Dean didn't either, but he was smarter than Seamus and didn't vocalize his doubts. I don't think we should involve any other Gryffindors unless you have suggestions?" Harry shook his head. He didn't speak much with anyone outside of his year, even in his own house. "Ravenclaws then?" Harry nodded and Hermione thought for a moment.

"As much as I think she's crazy, Luna does trust you implicitly and I know you want her in. I trust Padma. She's not like Parvati at all, really; she'll be serious about learning. Padma's a wise woman for her age. She will understand the risks." Hermione paused. "Is there anyone else in Ravenclaw you have in mind?"

"What do you know about Su Li?" Harry asked. He had noticed the extremely quiet Ravenclaw in several of his classes. Su generated an intellectual presence that only could come from a Ravenclaw. Cho and Su were friends, but not one of the 'giggling' ones she was usually surrounded with. 

Harry had considered Cho briefly. In the end, their disaster of a relationship had removed almost any chance at a real friendship and Harry felt it would be too awkward to have her involved. Hermione agreed when he mentioned her.

"Very little," Hermione replied. "She doesn't talk to many people, except for Padma."

"She doesn't talk?" Harry repeated.

Hermione gave him a withering look. "I said what I said."

"Michael Corner only joined because Ginny did, so he's out." Harry reasoned, moving on. "I know nothing about Anthony Goldstein either except that he's a bit of a moron."

"Nor do I. So, Luna and Padma from Ravenclaw, and possibly Su are okay?" Hermione confirmed. Harry summoned a scroll and Hermione procured a quill from somewhere and began to list the students mentioned so far.

"And lastly, Hufflepuff," Hermione said as she wrote a heading for Hufflepuff. "So, got any suggestions?"

"Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott spring to mind," Harry suggested. Hermione gave him a soft glare. "What?" he asked genuinely confused.

"Is it just me or are there an increasingly large number of women on this list?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised and pointing at her list.

Harry had the decency to blush at that comment. "Unintentional! H-Honest, Hermione!"

Most of the evidence of her earlier tears was gone now which made her laugh visibly genuine.

"I happen to agree. You never took much interest in gossiping, naturally. Popular belief is that they both believed you, and adore you for that matter," Hermione said with a grin and a devilish glint in her eye that made Harry squirm. He had very rarely seen that mischievous side of Hermione. Most memorable was when she had said _'breaking rules is kind of exciting!'_ the previous year.

"I also think Ernie MacMillan," Hermione said. "He believed you when few people did last year. I'm going to use one of Ron's phrases," she visibly shuddered. "He's a bit of a pompous git, but his heart and loyalties lie in the right place."

Harry saw no reason to disagree so Hermione added Ernie to the list. "I suppose that's it," he concluded. "I've never really associated with any others. Let me take a look." Harry took the offered paper and reviewed it.

**Gryffindor**

Harry Potter

Hermione Granger

Neville Longbottom  
Ron Weasley

Ginny Weasley

Katie Bell? 

**Hufflepuff**

Susan Bones?  
Hannah Abbot?

Ernie MacMillan?

**Ravenclaw**

Luna Lovegood

Su Li?

Padma Patil?

**Slytherin**

Daphne Greengrass?

"So there are thirteen of us? That's reasonable." Harry commented. "Having as many as we did last year would be too difficult."

"What exactly do you have in mind, Harry?" Hermione queried.

"Well, whatever useful things I learn in my extra classes I'll definitely pass on, but… if everyone can learn to block their minds from Legilimency then I think I'd like to tell them everything," Harry mused. "Including the Prophecy," he added.

"You want to tell them the Prophecy?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Eventually, yes, I think I will. Why shouldn't I? Nothing in the Prophecy says that I can't do it alone. The Prophet actually has it right for once; I suppose I am the 'Chosen One'."

Harry took on a serious expression. "I can't tell them everything straight off, can I? What if one of them does betray us, or says no? They will still know everything I've told them and could tell anyone."

"We can limit what we tell them until we trust them enough." Hermione offered. "We will have to give them something; people aren't going to fight Voldemort with us on blind faith.

"Whoever sticks with us deserves to know the full truth," Harry said in a voice that brokered no argument. "I'll tell them…"

Hermione let Harry decide exactly how much he would tell everyone while studying him. He had changed over the summer. He looked pretty much the same, albeit a bit taller and thinner than she had last seen him. Then again, he always grew and thinned during summer. The marked difference though was his personality. He was still the same caring, quiet, sometimes hot-headed young man she left at Kings Cross three months ago. Now however, there was maturity blooming within him. He was beginning to take charge of situations, especially his own life, and being more decisive. He was thinking things through thoroughly. In no way was the change a negative, in fact it was going to make him a better person. Hermione couldn't help but be saddened by this sudden growth of maturity because it meant that Harry had lost the remainder of his childhood and it had stemmed from the loss of a loved one.

Another aspect of Harry that had changed was his perceptiveness. "So, are you and Ron going out yet?"

Completely startled by this question, Hermione started blushing and stuttering, trying to deny it.

"Come now, Hermione." Harry grinned. "I'm not stupid. I know he's fancied you since the Yule Ball, and probably even before then, unconsciously at least."

Hermione continued to blush and looked away. "Y-yes well he and I… I and him… well I think I might fancy him too."

Harry's grin grew. "Really now?"

Hermione didn't respond.

"I'm on your side, Hermione." Harry said. "If you don't want anything to do with him that way, I'll tell Ron to back off and vice versa. Can I offer my opinion?"

Hermione nodded, but otherwise didn't respond.

"Half the time I see you without me around," Harry began a lot more seriously. "You two are arguing and the other half you aren't talking. Are you certain you two could actually work?"

Despite how it may have sounded to an outsider, Hermione could tell Harry was simply worried for her and nothing more. He also had a good point. She and Ron constantly bickered, if not all out argued. Some people around the castle had said they acted like an old married couple. In truth, there were times when Hermione just couldn't bear to be in Ron's presence anymore and so she retreated to the library. She and Ron had never spent an entire day together; even when Harry was unconscious in the Hospital Wing they had spent most of their time apart. At the Burrow they were always surrounded by the other Weasleys. Could she and Ron actually work? She figured she'd have to find out one way or another otherwise she'd waste an entire year, or longer, going after the wrong man.

"I honestly don't know." Hermione whispered. "I don't even know how I could like him. We always bicker… I never even would've been friends with him if he hadn't been your friend when you saved me…"

"Don't worry about it too much, Hermione," Harry said stifling a yawn. "You can always just go on a date and if you two can spend the entire day without killing each other, you can give it a shot."

Hermione gave Harry a small smile and then looked back into the fire. Something about it was captivating.

"Do you think I was a bit harsh in limiting the DA?" Harry asked suddenly.

"No," Hermione replied instantly. "You have seen so much betrayal, dishonesty and evil in your life Harry. You can't trust people as quickly and easily as other people do." 

"It's not a bad thing," she added seeing Harry's dejected look. "Trusting too easily leaves people open to being hurt that much more easily, and not trusting anyone will leave you alone and bitter. Maybe that's what happened to Tom Riddle."

Harry nodded, understanding her meaning. "We should probably go to bed. We do have classes tomorrow."

"Oh no!" Hermione exclaimed, her mind going into panic mode. "I haven't even read all of the books yet, what if I get asked something that I haven't read yet?"

Harry chuckled, got up and leaned forwards towards Hermione, leaning on the cushions around her legs. Hermione stopped rambling at his close proximity.

"Hermione, even if you hadn't read half the books, you're still far ahead of everyone in the year. You're the smartest in the year and you're a Muggleborn. Don't let anyone put you down about your origins this year."

Harry sighed. "Malfoy and Snape have gotten away with insulting and favoritism for five years now, I plan to end that. Whether you believe me or not about him, Malfoy is nothing but a spoiled troublemaker at school and it's time that came to an end." That was a half-truth in Harry's mind. Now that Malfoy was a Death Eater, he was worse than a spoiled troublemaker. He was now a spoiled troublemaker who didn't care at all who he hurt to accomplish his tasks. Harboring three Death Eaters would give one that impression.

Harry pushed himself back into a standing position and pulled Hermione up. "Though I didn't actually talk about him, I feel a lot better. Thanks, Hermione." Harry gave her a hug and made his way to the stairs.

"Thanks for listening, Harry." Hermione smiled and made her way to her stairs.

Simultaneously the two said 'goodnight' and Harry climbed his stairs to his bed for the year.

_And so we begin_, he thought as he dressed for bed. _Things will be different this time._

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N**: Originally I had Harry and Ginny get together early on this year and have a brief relationship before they broke up and went their separate ways. I even started to write some of that before I couldn't write anymore. I could not honestly be bothered writing about something I detest so much… To me, it was extremely difficult to justify their relationship so on the Ginny front, there's your daily dose of cliché's, with a slightly different take on things. It also goes a tad too long. Apologies.


	3. The DA

A/N: Thanks to chem. prof for his beta work.

_**Chapter 3: The DA**_

Harry was awake early. The anticipation of a new school year had kept him up most of the night, as did his mind as it whirred at the revelations and events of the previous day.

His roommates were also waking around him. He could make out the dulcet tones of Dean, the consistently noisy Seamus and the familiar voice of Neville amongst the sounds from outside. Nobody could miss Ron's continued snoring.

Harry fumbled for his glasses that were on his bedside table. Putting them on, he sat up and opened the curtains that surrounded his bed for privacy and was greeted with the tired but smiling faces of three of his fellow roommates.

"Morning, Harry!" The three of them said in messy unison. Harry greeted them in turn.

"Ron's still asleep?" Harry asked Neville, yawning at the same time.

"Looks and sounds like it," Neville replied. "It's still only seven so he's got plenty of time before breakfast and classes."

There was a shuffling noise behind Ron's curtains followed by a groan that suspiciously sounded like 'breakfast'.

"Meet you down there, Ron," Harry chuckled and followed Neville, Dean and Seamus down the stairs to the common room.

Coming down at the same time, from the girls' dormitory, was Katie.

"Harry," she greeted warmly. "I heard you got the Quidditch captain position. I knew you would."

"Thanks, Katie." Harry said and the pair slowed to walk together. He was slightly taller than her now after a short growth spurt during the summer. Neville, Dean and Seamus went ahead through the portrait hole. The two followed suit a moment later. "Quidditch practice will have to start soon, I guess. We'll need two new Chasers and Beaters."

"I still need to try out, Harry," Katie chastised. "You can't start off with favoritism. That also means Ron has to try out again."

Harry gave Katie a confused look. "How come I never needed to try out again?" he asked.

"Nobody ever applied against you, Harry," Katie responded with a grin. "They all knew you would wipe the floor with them if they went up against you. This year shouldn't be any different."

Nodding, a little disbelief kept him from responding. The pair rounded a corner and descended one of the moving staircases. Neville, Dean and Seamus were waiting for a second set to come their way. His conversation with Hermione fresh in his mind, Harry decided now was as good as ever.

"Neville!" Harry called out. The round-faced sixth year answered his call and ambled over.

"Morning Katie," Neville said. Then, facing Harry, he asked, "What's up?"

"Neville already knows that I am going to continue the DA this year." Harry said, attempting to find the right words. Katie looked thoughtful and interested at this. "Professor Dumbledore has allowed it to be an official 'club' so there won't be any trouble. Hopefully. At any rate, he's allowing me to run it how I choose to and I have decided that this will be _very_ limited. This won't just be learning Defense on our own. This will be something more important."

It was vague, that much was certain. But Harry couldn't risk freely offering people who might decline information on what he was going to. What was the point of trying to maintain secrecy if you lacked discretion?

"If you're interested, we'll meet on Friday night and I'll explain properly."

Katie and Neville both nodded.

"After the Ministry last year, Harry, I'll be glad to be a part of whatever you go through." Neville said. "I know that I don't understand a lot of what happened that night, but I've never felt as good as I did – as confident or as… _strong_ – when I was fighting side by side with you against the Death Eaters."

His eyes hardened and his tone did too. "I want to get stronger. I won't let people like Bellatrix Lestrange destroy other people's lives if I can help it."

Harry studied Neville for a moment. He in turn returned it with surprising intensity. "You've grown up, Neville."

"Really? I guess I have." Neville responded slowly, and a little embarrassedly. "What happened was a bit of a reality check for me. I didn't understand how serious the threat really was until then. I experienced what it was like on the front line, like you had been for four years already. Merlin, I felt weak and useless until you started teaching me in the DA. I don't want to ever feel helpless again, so it's time I got serious, you know? And if you're going to be in thick of this, you're going to need help. I'll be there."

Harry had never seen Neville so determined, so filled with resolve. He had known it was in there, but rarely surfaced itself. Confronting Ron, Hermione and himself at the end of their first year had been the first time Neville's strength had surfaced. Had he finally grown into it?

"I'm glad to have you." Harry replied with a grin. If last June helped Neville overcome his self-worth problems, then it was worth it.

"I don't think I can compete with that." Katie said wryly, reminding them of her presence.

Harry chose his words carefully. "I won't think any less of you if you decide not to, Katie. You've already got enough on your plate being your NEWT year and all. You've never been a part of this."

Katie was quiet for some time. The moving staircase finally swung by and collected an oblivious Dean and Seamus.

"I'll come." Katie finally responded. "I want to hear what you've got to say before I make any commitments. I can back out at any time, right?"

"Of course. I may need your word that you won't repeat what we're doing, but you can leave whenever." Satisfied, Harry nodded and smiled at her. "Let's go have breakfast then, shall we?" The three descended the stairs and waited for the moving staircase to return.

"Now that that's out of the way, how was your summer?"

"Great, actually." Katie replied warmly. "My mother and I went to –"

"Morning Harry, Neville, Katie."

Hermione stood at the top of the stairs with a tired smile on her face. She looked like she'd spent most of the night awake too. She joined them just in time for the moving staircase to pick them up.

"You all right?" asked Harry at Hermione's massive yawn.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Let's not talk so late when we've got classes…" Hermione said, and then yawned a second time.

Truthfully, it had been her dreams rather than the late conversation that kept her from good rest. She'd had a strange, exceedingly vivid dream. Never in her memory had a dream felt so real, and the contents had kept her mind active much of the night.

The details she could remember were sketchy at best, but Hermione was certain that it had been a conversation between Mrs. Weasley and herself. The details of the conversation were even sketchier.

"Hermione," Harry's voice broke into her thoughts, followed by his hand pulling her down the stairs. "Zone out when you're not on a moving staircase."

"Sorry, Harry. I'm all right."

Harry's skeptical look lasted several more seconds.

"Honestly."

"Right." Harry's tone made it clear that he was still skeptical but was ending the topic. "Neville's with us, and Katie's willing to hear what I've got to say."

Hermione, acting more herself, processed this in moments. "That's great."

"I've said to meet on Friday night to discuss it all." Harry explained. "Explaining everything might take some time, and it'll give us time to find and talk to everyone alone. We can get their word – or oath – not to repeat anything."

Hermione was surprised and pleased at the initiative Harry was showing. When compared to how she used to have to explain everything and force Harry to work, even more so.

"Well done, Harry." Hermione said. The three started walking again. "Who and how should we speak with next? I imagine Daphne will be the most difficult to approach."

Neville had a misstep. "Daphne? As in Daphne Greengrass?"

"Are there any other Daphne's in Hogwarts?" Katie replied, the question more rhetorical than anything.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, furrowing her brow at Neville.

Neville grimaced. "We… well she… I think she hates me."

"Why?" Harry asked the inevitable.

"I don't recall." Neville shrugged. "She just snaps at me whenever we walk by each other. It happened the first time I saw her here. I know we met before Hogwarts but nothing more. Something must've happened then, and with my memory as it was it's not surprising I've forgotten."

"I thought this was for people you trusted, Harry." Neville continued after a brief pause. "I haven't seen you two ever talk."

"We haven't." Harry replied.

"Oh."

Hermione huffed. "I'm vouching for her. We've spoken in Ancient Runes and she strikes me as someone who can help. She doesn't even try and hide the fact she despises Malfoy."

Neville scowled slightly. "That doesn't make her trustworthy. She'll have her own agenda. Like they all do."

"Hermione is vouching for her and I'll trust her word." Harry replied. "I'm not without reservations. If she agrees to join, I'll make her take an oath. She won't have the option to betray us."

Though not entirely satisfied, Neville let it slide. He trusted Harry and Hermione, and if they were willing to trust a Slytherin, he'd give her a chance. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be watching her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Breakfast was standard for the start of the year. Tired students, having spent too much time catching up with their friends and not enough sleeping, were everywhere. However, there were the academics that were bright-eyed and raring to go littered amongst the tired crowd.

Hermione and Neville sat with Harry while Katie joined her year mates further up the table. Professor McGonagall appeared within moments of starting their meals.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom and Ms. Granger, your timetables," McGonagall handed out three slips of paper. "I wish the three of you luck this year."

"Thank you, Professor." The three chimed and returned to their breakfast as McGonagall moved on to other new arrivals. The three gave their timetables a quick once over.

"Just looking at this is making me glad Dumbledore exempted me from homework." Harry said, glancing over at Neville's timetable and comparing their free times. Most of Harry's free periods were taken with extra lessons, in addition to a few in the evenings. "Looks like I'm going to be busy."

Ron appeared beside him and sat down with a grunt. "Mornin'," he yawned. "I was looking for you lot. How come you didn't wait?" The second he stopped talking his mouth was filled with food.

"I said I'd meet you here." Harry replied. "You were probably too busy dreaming of breakfast to hear."

Ron shrugged and continued devouring the rather large contents of his plate noisily. Raising an eyebrow, Harry gave Hermione a look that said: _Are you telling me you can't decide if you like this guy?_ Hermione gave a disapproving look at Ron and sighed, shaking her head.

Something's never changed.

Harry soon had his fill and resumed examining his time. First class was Defense with Snape for second period, same as Ron. Hermione and Neville respectively had Ancient Ruines and Advanced Herbology first up. The four parted outside the Great Hall.

"Game of chess, mate?" asked Ron once they were alone.

"Sure," Harry replied.

The next hour went painful slowly for Harry as he was decimated in three consecutive matches. Ron somehow could plan several moves in advance, and even when Harry had taken more pieces, Ron was still firmly in control. If he could transfer that ability to a real battlefield, Ron would be a great strategist in the future.

_If_.

At the end of the hour, the pair lined up outside the Defense classroom. Hermione joined them, arms laden with books and parchment, her bushy hair already mussed.

"Lots of homework already?" asked Harry. He collected a few of the books from her as Hermione struggled to sort herself out.

"Thanks, Harry," she replied. "Fifteen inch essay due Wednesday, and this book here," she took one of the three Harry had taken from her and stored it in her magically enlarged backpack. "I need to read by next Monday."

"Right shame we didn't take that class, right Harry?" Ron yawned.

Harry shrugged as Hermione took the other two from him. "With Divination as bad as it is, I should've done it instead. Homework's a bit full on though."

Ron didn't get time to make a response to Harry's rebuke as the door to the classroom opened, revealing Snape's scowling face. "In."

The trio entered silently, having experienced Snape's wrath more than enough times. Gryffindor was, unsurprisingly, paired with Slytherin again, and the latter groups disquiet went unnoticed. Snape strode the length of the classroom as the students took their seats. His cloak billowed around him as he faced the class that immediately quieted.

Snape surveyed the class. "You've had five teachers so far."

_And you've been waiting for each of them to leave, haven't you._

Snape's lip curled as his examination of class reached Harry.

"Your teachers have all had different curricula. Given the circumstances, I'm surprised so many of you managed an OWL." Snape began pacing the side wall, which was adorned with paintings of people in various states of pain; the results of numerous Dark magic's. "This class will be unlike any before. I'll be surprised if all of you manage to pass satisfactory."

Snape began an impassioned speech about the Dark Arts. Harry noted the adoration that crept into the man's voice. For the millionth time, questions of the man's loyalty passed through his mind but were quickly quashed. He needed to focus, to learn, even if the man teaching Defense was Snape.

"Non-verbal magic is the best defense for any attack you can come up with. Does anyone know why?" Snape asked.

Unsurprisingly, Hermione was the one who raised her hand. Snape looked for another hand but was forced to acknowledge Hermione. "Granger."

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform which gives you a split-second advantage." Hermione answered.

"An answer directly from _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6_ is not appreciated Miss Granger. I want answers in your own words." Snape replied dismissively. Malfoy laughed quietly in the corner; though the whole class heard him, Snape did nothing.

"Nevertheless, you are correct. Not all wizards can perform non-verbal magic. Some are simply unable to gather the required concentration and mind power." Snape said this last part looking directly at Harry. Harry remained unfazed.

_I'm not the same Harry Potter that you __knew__._

Snape curled his lip again and looked away.

"You will now divide into pairs and try to perform spells non-verbally," Snape continued. "One will perform a low-level jinx while the other will attempt to repel that jinx, both silently."

Harry found himself teamed up with Ron, and Hermione with Neville. Hermione and Neville immediately went to work, sporting looks of intense concentration, and Harry joined them. Not willing to let anything Snape ask him to do beat him, Harry put his whole mind to work.

After several minutes, Harry could feel the beginnings of a shield, and after several more, could see the outline of it. The more time that passed the clearer the outline became. Conversely, Ron, with usual lackluster enthusiasm for classes, failed to cast anything after ten minutes and grew increasingly frustrated.

Snape mingled throughout the class, giving pointers to the Slytherins while criticizing the Gryffindors. This biasness only served as further motivation for Harry.

A few minutes later, Snape came up behind Ron and watched his lack of success with disgust. "Pathetic, Weasley," said Snape. "This is how you do it."

Snape turned to Harry and cast a spell that he recognized to be a hair-lengthening charm. Harry didn't have time to think of the strange choice in spell for he put all his concentration on casting the Shield Charm.

The spell connected with Harry's shield and rebounded harmlessly into a wall nearby. The class was instantly silent. Even Snape took several moments to collect himself, surprised as he was. He wasn't the only surprised one; Harry could scarcely believe he pulled it off so quickly. There was something to be said about the right motivation.

Snape finally scowled at him and turned away, facing the rest of the class, who had paused to watch. "Switch places and continue!" he barked.

Harry turned to Hermione and Neville and gave them a grin. _"One for me,"_ he mouthed. They both caught the meaning and gave him a grin back. Harry turned back to Ron and concentrated on casting a jinx this time.

By the end of the class, Ron was twitching violently, sporting ankle length hair which was now colored with rainbow streaks. Snape, despite that it was Harry had who had performed the spells, smirked appreciatively at Ron's appearance. Harry had only tried to cast several low level jinxes and succeeded in most cases. The class had gone better than he would ever have imagined.

Hermione had also succeeded in casting a shield and Neville, surprising everyone, managed to cast a Tickling Jinx at Hermione in the closing minutes. Neville was living up to his words and Harry and Hermione complimented him for it.

Ron however, failed completely at casting non-verbal spells. His inability was only compounded the more frustrated he became.

Harry didn't feel sorry for Ron though. The aim of the lesson was to cast non verbal spells and Harry had succeeded where Ron hadn't. He wasn't going to feel sorry for him because he couldn't do something Harry could.

"He loves the Dark Arts." Neville remarked as he walked with them. The trio and Neville were on break now.

"He _used_ to be a Death Eater so he naturally knows a lot in relation to the Dark Arts." Hermione responded, giving Harry a look when she emphasized 'used'. Harry grunted.

"I don't know why Dumbledore trusts him. He won't tell me, but I know I can't trust him. You've seen how he treats me; he barely restrained himself in there. That's partly why the other houses think unity with Slytherin is a total joke."

Before any other comments could be traded, Harry was hailed down by a semi-familiar face.

"Hiya, Harry."

"Jack?" It turned out to be Jack Sloper, one of last years new Beaters.

"Professor McGonagall told me to give this to you." Sloper passed Harry a piece of paper. "Do you know when you're going to hold the trials?" he asked.

"Not yet." Harry thought for a moment. "I'll talk to McGonagall later and try for the weekend but wait till the notices go up for confirmation."

Satisfied, Sloper bade farewell and disappeared down the hall. Harry barely noticed; he recognized the handwriting to be Dumbledore's. Harry opened the scroll and read the contents.

_Harry,_

_I would like to begin our private lessons this Saturday evening around eight p.m. I am pleased to hear of your…exploits in your Defense class this morning. I hope to see you continue with such a fine start to the year._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_  
PS: I enjoy Acid Pops._

"Acid Pops?" Ron asked, having forgotten to act sullen in light of natural curiosity.

"It'd be the password," Harry said. "I'm surprised he already knows of Defense when we just left ten minutes ago. Though he does seem to know everything…"

The four of them spent the next hour pondering what Harry would be taught by Dumbledore on Saturday. All too soon, though, Hermione left them for Arithmancy while Harry, Ron and Neville returned to the common room. Ron offered another game of chess to Harry who declined, instead deciding to continue to work on non-verbal magic. Neville, pleased at his progress, joined in. Ron left them to it.

By the time Hermione joined them after lunch, Harry was halfway through the Charms he remembered from first year. When Hermione asked how he was managing it so easily, Harry hadn't the faintest. He was appreciative for the good fortune.

Soon enough it was time for double Potions. Harry, Ron and Hermione, joined by a few other Gyffrindors, trudged their way down the steps into the dungeons, for once not dreading entering the classroom.

Harry entered the classroom behind five Slytherins, four Ravenclaws, including Padma Patil, and three Hufflepuffs, including Ernie MacMillan. Professor Slughorn had taken a different approach to decorating the classroom than Snape had. Instead of a multitude of jars containing things that Harry didn't want to know about, Slughorn had several cauldrons filled with ready made Potions that Harry wasn't familiar with save one, one that he wouldn't forget any time soon – Polyjuice Potion.

Slughorn took Harry aside as soon as he entered the classroom.

"Harry, m'boy," Slughorn's walrus moustache twitched. "I heard about what happened on the train. Nasty business… Most disappointing you couldn't attend my little get together, but you certainly showed those Death Eaters!"

Slughorn leaned a bit closer, and Harry began to feel uncomfortable. "I will be having a dinner later on in the week and I would like for you to join me." Harry couldn't help but nod with the intimidating frame of the largely overweight man's body looming over him.

Moustache twitching again, Slughorn stepped back and Harry managed to race up to the back to sit next to Hermione. She gave him a quizzical look. Harry mouthed 'Later' as Slughorn began to talk.

Potions class was a completely different experience without Snape around. Unfortunately, having expected not to qualify for Potions, Harry and Ron lacked supplies. Slughorn offered the used books in the storeroom until the pair could owl order in their own. Ron's copy appeared to have been the victim of several vomiting incidents. Harry's was far more interesting. His copy was littered with another persons edits to potion recipes, and several unfamiliar spell notes were in the margins. The writing claimed it was property of 'The Half-Blood Prince', whoever that was.

Hermione disapproved of Harry following the edited instructions in an effort to win the prize of the lesson – the luck potion _Felix Felicis_. She disapproved further when his potion turned out better than her own.

The bell rang soon after Harry pocketed his vial of _Felix Felicis,_ and the class packed up. Given Padma and Ernie were both present, two of the people he and Hermione had chosen to approach, Harry decided to take advantage of the situation.

Hermione, still miffed at Harry's actions, realized what Harry was intending once he'd gotten her attention and nodded in Padma and Ernie's direction. Ron had disappeared the moment class ended, muttering a few choice words. His potion had turned out poorly, and smelled even worse, earning him a ribbing by Dean and Seamus before he'd stormed out.

Harry decided to have a chat with him later but first things first.

"Ernie, Padma, can we have a word?" Harry asked, with Hermione drawing up beside him. The classroom was now empty, save Slughorn, who was failing to be inconspicuous and hide his curiosity.

Ernie viewed Harry with skepticism, and slight irritation, likely a result of his sudden exceptional potion making skills. Padma had an expression of mild curiosity.

"Not here, Harry." Hermione whispered, nodding in Slughorn's direction.

Padma raised an eyebrow at this, her curiosity suddenly spiking. Harry gestured for them to follow. Hermione and Padma were right behind him; Ernie hesitated for a moment before joining them. Harry entered a small, unused room nearby. Hermione cast an Imperturbable Charm on the door after she closed it behind them.

Harry faced the pair. Ernie was stout-looking, blondish haired, and blue eyed. He was a good several inches shorter than Harry. Padma, being an identical twin, shared the long, black hair, black eyes and brown skin of her sister. She was just shorter than Harry. Two years prior Seamus had stated that she and Parvati were the most attractive girls in their year. If they weren't, they were in the top three.

Ernie's skepticism had given way to his own curiosity once Hermione had cast the Imperturbable Charm. Padma simply ran a hand through her hair. _A nervous gesture?_ Harry noted. He held up a hand to stem any incoming questions.

"I've decided to restart the DA this year," Harry said.

"Excellent." Ernie said. Padma did and said nothing for a moment.

"That can't be it," she eventually said. "You wouldn't go to this effort to prevent us from being overheard for that."

Hermione was right; she did catch on to things quickly.

"You're right, there's more to it," said Harry. "The DA won't be the same as it was last year. This isn't about just learning to defend ourselves anymore. It's more than that."

"How much more?" asked Ernie, folding his arms.

"Voldemort is back." Harry said. Ernie shuddered. Padma closed her eyes for a moment, her only visible reaction. "The world finally understands that. But that also makes the world a lot more dangerous. The Death Eaters no long need to work in the shadows. The deaths of Amelia Bones and other Ministry employees should make that clear."

"Voldemort keeps coming for me and I'm sick of being unprepared. He wants me dead and is willing to do a lot to achieve that. Next time he comes, I'm going to be ready."

"What do you want from us?" Padma asked. "We're not equipped to fight a Dark Lord."

"I can explain what I want from you but I need your word."

"An oath, you mean."

Harry glanced at Hermione and then back to Padma. _She _is _smart_.

"Yes. Look, I know I'm not telling you much. We're going to meet on Friday night and, if you want to, you can hear what I've got to say. I don't need an answer today, just let me know if you want to come before Friday."

Hermione, who had been silent for the duration, added, "You're under no obligation to join. Come along and listen. If you're not convinced or not interested, then you can walk away with a simple oath to not reveal what we talked about or what we're doing."

Harry and Hermione let that hang in the air for a moment. Then, just as they were about to give them time to think it over, Padma said, "I know it doesn't mean a thing now, but I would've come with you to the Ministry as well. Most of us would have. We owe you far more than our Defense OWLs." Harry could see a fierce determination in her eyes. It made his heart flutter a little.

Padma paused and looked away for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was a softer. "The night after Madam Bones was murdered, one of our family friends was attacked and murdered in their own home. If that had happened to us…" she shuddered a little. "I want to be strong; I want to be able to protect myself and those that I care about. If I need to follow you to become a stronger person, I will."

Harry didn't quite know how to respond to that. He was saved the trouble when Ernie chipped in.

"I'm a ninth generation pureblood," Ernie stated. "My family has never supported the Dark Arts and that has made us a target. I agree with Padma, I won't let my family get killed because of my own lack of skills on the battlefront."

It took Harry several moments to process what had just happened. Two near strangers, no matter how friendly they had been in the past, had agreed to join him in a group that would one day intentionally walk straight into danger. They still needed to hear what he had to say, but…

_Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought._

-x-x-x-x-x-

Despite the extra classes for each of his subjects, Professor Sprout and Herbology excluded, Harry still had a number of free periods. Instead of relaxing and bludging them away like he would have a year ago – and Ron was doing currently – Harry kept himself busy practicing whatever spells he'd learnt during the day, or reading Hermione's old textbooks from their first year and practicing those spells silently. By the end of the week, he'd completed the entire first year course without uttering a single incantation. He'd noticed a number of useful every day spells he'd not learnt the first time around due to his slacking nature. This resulted in further resolve to work harder.

Although, some of the spells he'd discovered in the books were worrying. Who really needed a spell that made nose hair curl? Not even the Weasley twins would do something so useless anymore, if they ever stooped so low.

Ron had a negative attitude towards Harry's newfound Hermione-like attitude. More than once Ron had left Harry to his own devices after receiving no sympathy about their already substantial workload.

Conversely, Hermione was delighted by Harry's new studious nature, and not only because he was taking the continued threat to his life seriously. It meant she had more to relate to with him than ever before. Somehow, with her two extra subjects and homework on top of that, she'd found the time to practice her own non-verbal magic with Harry in a spare classroom near to Gryffindor tower.

Harry had accidentally cast the Levitation Charm on Crookshanks, who'd run in front of the spell, flinging the gigantic cat off the ground and straight into a passing third year. The resulting mess left several people with scratches, a teary first year, and Harry deciding to practice outside the Common Room from then on. But not before he'd had to console a worried Hermione and received slaps on the back by several sarcastic admirers.

Elsewhere, Harry had booked the pitch for try outs for the Sunday coming. Several hopefuls could be seen spending their free afternoons or evenings practicing.

Regular lessons proved to be passing well for Harry, Neville and Hermione. Snape continued to goad Harry into doing something stupid to provide an opportunity to take house points from Gryffindor, but Harry was too focused on completing his work to let himself get riled up so easily. Slughorn continued to praise Harry's potion brewing skills after Harry had followed the Half-Blood Prince's notes a second time. Hermione had been displeased with this and cast a variety of spells designed to reveal magic or evil intent on the book to no avail.

Harry's extra lessons weren't going too badly either.

Professor Flitwick started lecturing Harry on the use of various Charms in combat. He recalled someone mentioning that Flitwick was a champion duelist and took everything he was taught very seriously. Flitwick promised Harry to help him to learn to duel using a full range of Charms, Transfiguration and regular jinxes, hexes and curses later in the term, once he'd covered a bit of the theory. Professor McGonagall taught him similarly.

Professor Slughorn was teaching Harry, from first year Potions upwards, the use of Potions in combat, healing and everything else Snape should have been teaching his students rather than yelling at them to make Potions without an explanation. Harry began to enjoy Potions, something that surprised him, under Slughorn's tutelage. Slughorn was noticeably trying to get into Harry's good books, no doubt for a favor one day, but Harry managed to ignore the man's eccentricities and concentrate on learning.

Snape's lessons were the hardest. The material in itself wasn't terribly complex; dealing with Snape without retaliating was harder. What he did attempt to teach was a combination of strategy and the discipline to know the right spell for the right situation. Whatever Snape's personality problems were, Harry grudgingly agreed with Hermione. Snape knew the Dark Arts well, and what he was teaching was going to be valuable in a fight.

Extra Potions were the only classes that Harry wasn't exhausted after. Hermione waited for him every time he had a night class and he filled her in on what he had learned before retiring.

On Thursday, Hermione had gotten Su and Daphne alone together in a room with Harry after Ancient Runes. Su, a diminutive Asian with long, black hair and brown eyes – who Harry found to be exceedingly quiet, though undeniably intelligent – had agreed to hear him out after hearing Padma had agreed. Daphne was another matter.

Daphne Greengrass was the main competition for Parvati and Padma Patil as the most attractive in their year. She had long, blonde hair, pretty ice-blue eyes, and a face that suited a model. Her reputation, however, prevented her from being more than a silent object of admiration of the opposite gender. She was infamous for being an outcast in Slytherin, and biting the heads of those who spoke to her. How Hermione had talked her into meeting Harry was beyond him.

The young woman wasn't quiet but didn't give away much when you asked her questions. She had projected a confrontation personality in their meeting. Hermione later assured him wasn't her normal persona. If that were the case, Harry found her act very convincing.

"_I'll come along." _Daphne had finally said after fifteen minutes of to-and-fro_. "I want to hear want Golden Boy here has got to say."_

Ginny, one of six people Harry had left to ask was rarely seen, and when she was she was with Dean. It became clear that Ginny was far too absorbed with her relationship. Harry decided not to take her away from that. Why bother her if she was happy with Dean? She should as normal life as possible after being possessed by the Diary.

Harry found Luna on Thursday afternoon and ended up speaking with her for an entire hour. Her company was surprisingly enjoyable. Something about her, for all her quirks, endeared herself to him, and her company had been so enjoyable he'd almost forgotten to talk to her about the DA, to which she had agreed.

Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot, a pair of bubbly Hufflepuffs, were almost always seen together. Harry cornered them after Herbology Thursday evening. Susan was a strawberry blonde, her hair tied into a plait reaching down her back. She had kind, and slightly mischievous blue eyes, something that had appeared in recent times, though somewhat diminished by a darkness in there. The death of her final family member – Amelia Bones – would've hit her hard. Hannah had blonde hair, not constrained by any means, and similar blue eyes to her best friend. Her cheeks were naturally rosy.

The two Hufflepuffs were eager to assist Harry however they could and agreed to the meeting almost immediately. Harry couldn't help remembering Hermione's words about the pair: _They adore you_. Harry tried to offer his condolences to Susan about her Aunt. Unlike his attempts to cheer Cho up, Susan was appreciative and not teary.

Ron's presence began to become noticeably absent as the week went on. He often disappeared in the evenings and avoided Harry when he was working on his silent spellcasting. Any time spent together was in class or at meals, neither a suitable place for a conversation of this importance.

Harry hadn't talked with Hermione again about her standing on the idea of Ron and a relationship, and didn't exactly plan to push her into one, but something seemed off about her a few times later into the night. Harry put it down to her being unused to the hours at Hogwarts after the summer and told her to get a good sleep.

Soon enough it was Friday night. Harry found himself outside a classroom near Trelawney's around eight p.m. It had taken a bit of doing, but he'd found everyone and told them to meet them here after scouting it out on the Marauder's Map earlier in the week. The corridor was seldom used and paintings were scarce. Hermione said it was paranoia, but Harry had seen portraits gossiping on student activities and didn't want to take the risk.

Ron had once again disappeared after dinner before Harry could get a chance to talk to him. He'd left claiming he wanted a practice flight for the try outs on Sunday. Hermione told him not dwell on Ron's strange behavior as the try outs were close and they both understood how much the Keeper spot meant to him. They'd tell him later.

The classroom was practically bare, minus a few dusty tables and a dozen or so chairs. Hermione cast a few cleaning spells while he transfigured the tables and chairs into simple cushions. His transfiguration skills needed work, but the cushions were reasonably soft and comfortable. They'd suffice.

Susan and Hannah were the first to arrive. They greeted Harry and Hermione warmly and took a pair of cushions at sat together, speaking in hushed tones. Hermione pointed out that Susan was already looking better than she did a week ago. Perhaps being surrounded by friends and peers was helpful. Before any more thought could be had, Neville and Katie arrived. Padma and Su arrived a few minutes later, then Luna and Ernie.

Daphne arrived last. Her entrance was met with a plethora of surprised, curious and lukewarm expressions. Neville avoided looking at her.

Harry closed the door behind her and cast the Imperturbable Charms. He took a seat beside Hermione at the front of the group.

All eyes were on him when he sat down and cleared his throat.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." Harry said. "You know – well, sort of – why you're here. I promise to clear things up. But I need your word, your oath that nothing I say will be repeated to anyone except those within this room. If you can't accept that, you're free to leave. If you don't want to be a part of this, you're free to leave at anytime. I just need your word you won't repeat – willingly or unwillingly – anything to those not here."

It took several moments, but Susan raised her wand and spoke an oath. Hannah and Padma followed suit, and one by one the others followed. Daphne was last. The further odd looks she received appeared to not concern her.

"Brilliant." Harry said once they'd all made their oaths. He made himself more comfortable, as this was going to take awhile. "I suppose you're all curious and impatient for answers. I'll have to ask you to be a little patient. There's a lot to explain."

Hermione had suggested that a brief outline of his life, specifically the Voldemort related events, of course, would be advantageous. The group had to understand what they were investing themselves in. But he wouldn't say everything. He needed to know who would follow him before he told them the complete truth.

With a breath, Harry began. "Fifteen years ago, my parents were in hiding from Voldemort." A collective shudder went throughout most of the room. "They'd been part of an underground group fighting against the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Lily and James Potter had fought and escaped from Voldemort's clutches three times – I don't know the specifics – and for some reason Voldemort took particular interest in them."

Harry and Hermione were the only ones that noticed the pensive expression on Neville's face. Given Neville's presence in the Hall of Prophecies, it was only a matter of time before he would figure things out for himself now.

Luna was the opposite. She was staring at something above Harry's head. He knew her well enough to know she was paying him her full attention, however.

"Knowing that Voldemort was after them, my parents went into hiding using the Fidelius Charm." Harry paused for a moment. "You all know how it works, right?" Everyone nodded, minus Luna who continued to stare above his head.

"The Secret Keeper was going to be my Godfather, Sirius Black." This earned him a series of gasps.

"Sirius Black was your _Godfather_?" asked Padma, her incredulity obvious.

"Yes, he was." Harry replied calmly. A bit of spite entered his voice, "And he was innocent." Harry's demeanor completely changed at the mention of the injustice towards Sirius. "Sirius Black was never the Secret Keeper and never killed those Muggles. He was a man who was innocent from the start. The Ministry never gave him a trial, never had any proof and never gave him a chance to show his memories to prove his innocence."

The reactions that brought out – ranging from cries of outrage, to a non-reaction from Daphne – made Harry realize he had a lot of explaining to do.

So it began. Harry explained how he believed the Ministry was corrupt, incompetent or both, how Peter Pettigrew framed Sirius, Voldemort's fate – becoming a formless spirit – and how Harry was left with the Dursleys.

"I think I'm beginning to understand why Auntie came home so angry sometimes." Susan said sadly. "I remember her being upset, having arguments with other people I knew worked at the Ministry… she worked so hard to do the right thing."

Having only met her the one time, Harry couldn't agree or disagree. However, she'd been tough but fair at his trial. Considering those around her, he respected her for that.

Hannah had an arm around her friend as her mind strayed down the inevitable path towards her Aunt's death. For Harry, thinking of Sirius was not as difficult as it once was, but it was never easy. But he knew it would grow easier with time. It already had.

Harry continued onwards with his story. He spoke about how he grew up, glossing over details about why he appeared so malnourished when he arrived in his first year, and how he knew nothing about magic until his letter arrived. He spoke of his first year, meeting Ron and Hermione, and the troll, Fluffy, Quirrel and Voldemort possessing him.

Neville flushed a lot at Harry's mention of Neville confronting the trio on their way to the Philosopher's Stone. Katie patted Neville on the back in a mock consoling gesture after a few light laughs at his expense. It was playful laughter, however, and it was forgotten as Harry continued his tale.

Harry never lied in his tale, only sometimes speaking half-truths and omitting details. Padma and Daphne appeared to notice, if their respective curious and hard expressions were anything to go by.

"That was my first year at Hogwarts."

"This is interesting, yet I don't see the relevance." Ernie said in his pompous tone. Harry could see that he was not the only one, though if the looks Susan and Hannah gave him were any indication, others wanted to hear more, relevant or not.

"You will soon." Harry replied. "To understand properly, you need to know what's happened in my life."

After a few minutes break, Harry began his second year. He spoke of Dobby, how he was the reason for Harry arriving in a car – though in hindsight he should've just used Hedwig to send a letter to the train, or McGonagall – and the out of control Bludger. He spoke of the voices in the wall, and the incident at the Dueling Club.

"I'm sorry," Hannah said at this point. "I shouldn't have believed all the rumors about you being the Heir of Slytherin, but I did. You'd never been anything but nice to me before, during and after."

"It's water under the bridge now." Harry said, with a careless wave of his hand. "I couldn't believe it at the time. The wizarding world seems to believe everything they're told in the Daily Prophet. It's unimaginable how people can turn on their peers because of the slightest hearsay and the words of a newspaper."

"The Ministry is supposed to provide us with the truth." Padma added. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and Harry found himself watching it a little too intently. "The Daily Prophet was a pawn of Fudge. Whatever he didn't want in the papers wouldn't make it. Whatever he wanted, whether it was the truth or not, would make publication. We saw that last year."

"I don't know much about Scrimgeour." Harry said. "What's his story?"

"He's the former head of the Auror office." Padma supplied. "He was elected because we needed a wartime leader, and he's the best we've got with enough popular opinion. He's proven to be more honest than Fudge. However, that isn't saying much. It's hard to say what his agenda is."

"What makes you say he's got an agenda?" Katie asked. She'd been relatively quiet up until this point.

"Don't be naïve, Bell." Daphne said in a cold tone. "Everyone wants something. Politicians even more so. You can bet your life Scrimgeour has an agenda."

This generated a round of disapproving looks, glowers and glares at Daphne. She was unfazed and undeterred by her lack of popularity. Harry figured it was nothing new to her.

"Let's move on." Harry wisely said and defused the situation before anything could begin.

He then continued his second year tale. He spoke of their peers being petrified, the Diary, losing Hermione, Aragog (at this point Padma quickly conversed with Su in hushed tones, having figured out who Myrtle really was), Lockhart, and briefly on the Chamber of Secrets. All Harry said was that he managed to kill the Basilisk and save Ginny. Most of the group was unsatisfied with the explanation of what happened in the Chamber. However, only Padma and Su, and perhaps Daphne, though she was inscrutable, were curious as to the why more than about what happened.

Third year was next, with Sirius escaping Azkaban, discovering the true identity of Scabbers a.k.a. Peter Pettigrew, and, briefly, the confrontation in the Shrieking Shack and the aftermath. Again, Harry left out the specifics, such as the use of Hermione's Time Turner in Sirius escaping from Hogwarts. He also mentioned Trelawney being an actual seer, much to the disbelief of the group.

Harry then spoke of the Quidditch World Cup, the Tri-Wizard Tournament, how he was unknowingly entered by Barty Crouch Jr. in a plot to send Harry to Voldemort and unwittingly and unwillingly revive him. Harry witnessed several guilty looks. Few believed he hadn't entered himself.

Harry then spoke of the night of the Third Task, Krum under the Imperius, his and Cedric's race to the Tri-Wizard Cup, how the Cup was a portkey, and how it transported Cedric to his death and Harry directly to Voldemort's clutches. He left out a lot of details again, but covered the main aspects; witnessing the reunion of the Death Eaters he'd named in the Quibbler last year, his and Voldemort's duel, and that he escaped.

He spoke even less of fifth year. Most of what had transpired was public knowledge, but Harry explained that he received a vision of Sirius captured.

"Hermione was convinced it was a trap," said Harry with a little self-recrimination in his tone. "And eventually convinced me to check to see if he was where he was living. But the house-elf there lied to me and said Sirius had left and gone to the Department of Mysteries, the place where I had dreamed he was being held."

"You know most of the rest. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna came with me in a rescue attempt. It was a trap. Voldemort wanted me there. But we managed to fight and hold our own long enough for backup to arrive. Sirius and some friends came. Bellatrix killed him right in front of me."

Susan looked like she could barely resist giving Harry a hug. On top of her affection for him, she knew what Harry was going through. Amelia Bones had been her last family member, after all.

"Still, our side was winning the fight and the Death Eaters began to retreat." Harry continued. "I didn't care. I went after Bellatrix. We were beginning to duel when Voldemort appeared in the Atrium. Dumbledore appeared and he and Voldemort fought to a standstill. The Aurors and Ministry employees finally arrived and Voldemort left with Bellatrix."

Harry, somewhat emotionally spent after going through his life, was quiet for a couple of minutes. Everyone else was busy digesting this flood of new information. A significant number of opinions on the Ministry, on the war, on Harry himself were being changed in this room tonight.

"There," said Harry. "Now you know the background to this."

"It's difficult to comprehend that all of this happened to you while the rest of us led relatively normal lives." Ernie remarked. "Yet it's all true, isn't it?"

"It is."

"I still don't understand what you want, Harry." Katie said. "That was all very interesting to hear but you still haven't answered the question."

Hannah gave the seventh year girl a dirty look, to which Katie was oblivious to.

"Voldemort, for whatever reason, wants me dead." Harry deadpanned. "I'm not going to sit by and be taken by surprise by another of his plans. I'm going to be prepared for when he strikes again. More than that. I'm going to go out and do what I can. I'm going to practice, get stronger, and I'm going to fight back."

"Our generation is growing up into the war. We've already taken a serious blow in the last war when a large number of children and parents were murdered. If we don't start doing something for ourselves, we'll lose more people we care about. I can't, no, I _won't_ let that happen."

Harry leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands in a steeple. Quietly, he said, "Voldemort wants me dead. He's gone to great lengths to remove me from the protections at Hogwarts. I'm a threat to him."

"I don't expect anything from you. What I want is for you to help me. Train with me. Fight with me. Do _something_, and not hide here, hoping the Aurors can win."

"What makes you so certain they can't?"

The group turned to face Daphne. Her arms were crossed and her entire focus was on Harry, oblivious to the attention of the others. He locked gazes with her. He could almost feel the intensity of her focus, feel her will. It would be prudent not to take her lightly.

"Personal experience," said Harry. "The Aurors took at least twenty minutes to react to an attack in the Ministry. Aren't those who live in the wizarding community meant to rely on the Aurors to defend their homes? _Twenty_ minutes. You'd be dead, worse than dead, in half that."

The unspoken implications of Harry's statement were left hanging in the air.

"It's unfair of me to ask this of you, and arrogant for me to expect anything from you. You all have the option of walking out of this room and never speaking to me again if that's what you want. I won't stop you. You'll become a target, just like me, just like Hermione has, if you agree. This won't be fun anymore. This is dangerous, life threatening dangerous. But I believe with every fiber of my being that what I'm doing is right, and I will do this with or without you."

The room was quiet except for the sounds of breathing. Harry turned to Hermione, and she gave him an encouraging smile which did little to quell the nervousness he felt. She'd been silent for most of the night, only adding in a detail or two that Harry had forgotten. Harry faced the rest of the group again, watching everyone in turn, wondering what was going through their minds. He never doubted for a second that he was doing the right thing.

"Look, this is a huge choice to make." Harry said softly. "You should sleep on it at the very least. This isn't a choice to make in the moment."

Neville shook his head. "I've made my choice already. I know I've got limited experience, that I probably don't truly understand what I'm getting myself into, but I want to help you. I will help you."

He lowered his head for a moment, took a breath and looked Harry in the eye. "I'm in."

"Me too."

Harry looked over to see Padma give him a small smile. "I feel a bit like Neville. I don't truly understand what I'm getting myself into, but I want to help. I don't want people to keep dying. The Aurors arrived only after friends of the family were murdered in their homes. The Death Eaters were long gone. They can't protect all of us. We can do something. I'm in too."

"Padma…" breathed Harry. He barely knew this young woman and she was pledging herself to walk into danger with him. Before he could say anything more, Luna spoke.

"Harry," her voice was missing the calm serenity it usually had. "I came with you to the Ministry because you are my friend and I wanted to help. I will do the same again whether you asked for help or not."

"Luna…"

"Don't forget us." Susan chimed in. She gave Hannah a small smile, to which she nodded in response. "We might not understand either, none of us probably do. But we want to help."

"Su's in, too." Padma announced. Harry gave the quiet girl a look and she nodded her confirmation.

Katie spoke up. "I'll help. I'm not sure if I'll regret this or not. What I do know is that you're younger than the entire Ministry and you've done in one night more than they did in an entire year. I believe you when you say the Ministry isn't going to win the war. That leaves us, the next generation."

"I agree with Katie," said Ernie. Harry turned to face him, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the responses. "I'm not sure if I'll regret this or not but you make sound and convincing arguments."

"Thank you, everyone," Harry said with amazement evident in his voice. "Really."

Hermione was looking ecstatic. Harry was staring at the faces in front of him, barely able to fathom why so many were willing to follow him in certain danger.

"What about you, Daphne?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat. He'd been so swept up in the moment that he'd forgotten she had yet to reply.

Hermione was watching her, biting her lower lip. She'd been the one to speak. As the one who was vouching for her, it made sense that she was worried about her response.

The atmosphere of the room changed almost immediately.

"If I get caught with you, Potter, I will be in more danger than you." Daphne said after some time. "My 'housemates' will attack me, probably rape me and they'd get away with it." Harry's eyes widened.

"Malfoy's group goes that far?" he asked in disbelief.

"Not yet but they're getting older and braver," Daphne replied, seemingly unfazed. "Well, older and stupider, at least. It's been coming for years."

"Why doesn't Dumbledore do anything?" asked Ernie, his expression guarded and tone uncertain.

"Snape wouldn't rat out his charges." Harry guessed, looking at the stone floor, lost in thought. "And the victims would be too afraid to say anything for fear of repercussions. Right?" he looked at Daphne pointedly at the last part.

"Essentially."

"We can avoid talking to you directly in public." Hermione assured her. "Last year we used charmed galleons to communicate. We can use something similar – a ring, perhaps?"

"Would that work for you?" asked Harry, and he surprised himself by the slightly hopeful tone that crept into his voice.

Daphne took several moments to reply. "All right. I'm in."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief that only Harry probably heard. "Thank goodness," she said under her breath.

"Don't misunderstand me, Potter." Daphne added as she rose to her feet, smoothing out her robes and tossing her hair behind her head – a surprisingly attractive gesture. "We are not friends.

"And the rest of you," she looked around at everyone. "Make sure whenever any of you talk to me, it's not in public," Daphne advised. "Once or twice I might get away with some of you," she pointed around at Susan, Hannah, Padma and Su. "But not outside of class for you," Hermione was next. "And you in general," Harry was last. "I'll have more trouble than I want."

"I get you."

Satisfied, Daphne nodded at him and then took her leave. Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. Hers was pleased and it was infectious. Everyone had said yes.

After a brief exchange of words amongst the groups, the others started to leave as well. Harry and Hermione were the last to leave.

"I never seriously believed they'd all agree." Harry said, closing his eyes and basking in the hopeful feeling inside of him.

Hermione smiled. "You underestimate yourself and the others around you. You're a good leader, Harry."

_A good leader, huh?_

For the first time since he heard the prophecy, Harry truly believed that maybe, just maybe, he could survive the coming trials.


	4. Strange Behavior

A/N: Thanks to chem prof for his beta work.

The chapter song title is from the Australian band "Silverchair".

_**Chapter 4: Strange Behavior**_

It was Saturday morning and Harry and Hermione were seated at one of the tables in the common room. Hermione was absorbed in her homework and Harry was leaning back on his chair, idly toying with his quill, trying to formulate a letter to Fleur Delacour.

The Beauxbatons alumni and Harry's fellow Tri-Wizard champion was currently working at Gringotts with her fiancé, Bill Weasley. Harry considered her to be someone sympathetic outside of Hogwarts. The summer at the Burrow had formed a rapport between the pair. He did genuinely like the part-Veela – at least now he did, after she had dropped much of her initial icy attitude towards him – and even if she declined his offer to help, creating some correspondence between the two of them wouldn't be a bad thing.

Sighing, Harry quickly scribbled down a few lines. It wasn't anything grandiose, or even informative, but it got the point across – he wanted to talk to her about something important that he couldn't discuss in a letter.

"Is this okay?" Harry asked Hermione, palming off the letter to her.

Hermione ignored Harry for a minute as she finished off her parchment, pushed it aside, and finished a sentence at the top of the next one. Harry shook his head at his best friend, her writing was miniscule and she'd already written an entire page of her twenty-inch Arithmancy assignment. It wasn't due for another week.

A cursory glance is all Hermione offered. "It's fine." Without further word, she passed the letter back and returned to her assignment.

Shaking his head, Harry rolled up the parchment. When Hermione was at work, she had a one-track mind. It was best to leave her to it.

The corridors leading to the owlery were quiet at this time of day. Breakfast was an hour past, and those who were out and about were enjoying what warm Scottish weather they could salvage. Harry's trip was quiet.

Katie, Neville, Hermione and Harry returned to their common room shortly before ten – curfew. A small party was underway, a mini-celebration of surviving the first week back. Most of the students were still awake. Hermione had taken in the sight, bitten her lip, noting the lack of room to work, and almost immediately bade goodnight. Ginny and Dean weren't inconspicuous with their public displays of affection in one of the armchairs in front of the fire. Harry noticed Ron was watching them with an ever increasing scowl on his face. Showing a rare fit of wisdom, he left the room rather than make a scene.

Surprisingly, when Harry entered their dormitory a short while later, the curtains around Ron's four-poster bed were shut. Ron's unusual actions had left Harry confused. He'd decided to leave the redhead alone. The DA was left unmentioned again.

Thoughts of said DA had kept Harry awake for awhile. The group he'd organized was formed without nearly as much difficulty as he'd thought. Did he really have such little faith in his peers? Were his bad experiences with Malfoy and the Ministry coloring his perceptions of the world? If so, he was glad to be pleasantly surprised.

The sounds of Harry's footfalls echoing off the empty corridors gave way to the constant hooting of the owlery. The smell of owls and their droppings hit him like a physical force. A number of carcasses from the previous nights hunting crunched beneath Harry's shoes as he crossed the circular tower, searching the rafters for the familiar snowy white plumage of his owl.

"Hedwig," called Harry, and the second he'd called her he saw her swoop in from outside in the corner of his eye. He extended his arm and Hedwig at once perched herself on him. She titled her head and gave him an affectionate nip on the ear.

"Hey girl, it's good to see you. Are you up for a trip?"

The stupid question earned him an indignant hoot, as if she were insulted at Harry's implied suggestion that she wasn't. Harry grinned and tied the letter to her leg. "The letter is for Fleur Delacour. She may be at the Burrow; otherwise her home is in France."

A second nip to the ear and a hoot was the response Harry was given. Harry walked to the edge of the owlery, leaned out and watched as Hedwig spread her wings and took flight. Harry watched her until she was naught but a speck in the distance and turned to return to the common room.

Cho was blocking his route.

"Hi." They said at exactly the same time, both a little too high pitched to be normal.

An awkward silence followed.

"Not going to have Filch up here questioning your correspondences, are we?" joking asked Cho. Her hands were fidgeting.

"I doubt it." Harry replied, and it came out stiffly.

"Ah. That's good." A nervous laugh. "I'll just post my letter now."

A tawny owl hooted loudly and flew down from the rafters onto Cho's arm. "Hey there, are you up to for a trip home?" Cho busied herself stroking the owl and talking to it. Harry noticed how easygoing she was with the owl. They'd never have such dynamics.

Harry began to feel uncomfortable standing by watching and moved to leave.

"Uh, H-Harry," stuttered Cho. Harry stopped and faced his ex. Her owl was watching him intently. Cho was avoiding his gaze, staring at the floor instead. "Will the DA be on again this year?"

Harry stood still in thought for a moment. What did he think of her? He hadn't thought about her in a romantic way in months. For certain he knew they would not and could not work. Besides, Michael Corner was supposed to be dating her now after leaving Ginny. Harry felt… nothing about that.

Could he work with her, in life or death situations? The answer came surprisingly quickly. Cho could barely talk to him right now, she was so nervous (and embarrassed, maybe?). How could two people work together like that?

Harry made his choice.

"No."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Dumbledore's first 'lesson' was that evening. Harry hadn't known what to expect. A memory of Voldemort's family was most certainly not something he would've guessed. Certainly, it was interesting to learn his background. However, it was Harry's turn to question the relevance of what he was being told.

Waiting in the common room was Hermione. She was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the fire reading the Ancient Runes book she had to have finished by Monday, completely oblivious to throng of students still working and chatting around her. Judging by how few pages she had left, she'd be finished her book within the hour.

It took only several minutes for Harry to relate what occurred in Ogden's memory. The next half an hour was spent discussion the memory and formulating theories.

"Merope Gaunt must have been desperate to use a Love Potion." Hermione said. Was that pity Harry heard in her voice?

"Compulsion was the only way she could get Tom Riddle Senior to love her." Harry shook his head. "The way Riddle and the village girl were speaking about the Gaunt family made that perfectly clear."

Hermione nodded in silent agreement.

"Dumbledore suspects that Merope couldn't bear to lie to Riddle anymore and stopped feeding him Love Potions." Harry added. "There were rumors that Riddle had been 'hoodwinked' into the marriage in the first place."

"It's kind of sad." Hermione said softly. "Voldemort was an orphan, wasn't he? That means Merope died."

Harry didn't say anything.

"So she had Tom Riddle Junior alone and died either at birth or soon after," Hermione deduced. "Then he grew up in an orphanage, without loving parents…" She then added in a whisper, "His childhood sounds like yours."

Harry nodded solemnly; the thought had crossed his mind.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Sunday was Quidditch tryouts.

Katie out flew all her competition and retained her spot as a Chaser to nobody's surprise. Ginny and Demelza Robins, a third year who flew a little recklessly but had magnificent hand-eye coordination, were the other two. Katie immediately took them aside and began to teach them a few moves.

Sloper and Kirke had both lost their spots to fellow third year hopefuls Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote.

Ron managed to secure his role as Keeper after a close competition with a seventh year by the name of Cormac McLaggen. Both saved their initial five shots that narrowed down the competition. The rematch and eventual sudden death lasted ten minutes before McLaggen missed a save. Unluckily, the Quaffle bounced off the edge of his fingers and went through the goalpost to his right. Furious, McLaggen had started throwing insults at Ginny for going easy on her brother. Ginny retaliated in due course. McLaggen spent the next several minutes under the Bat-Bogey Hex.

Afterwards, Ron apologized about his behavior over the first week of term. He declared he had been going down to the pitch to practice every night to keep his spot. Harry and Hermione were too wrapped up in the celebrations to even think of cluing Ron into what they were doing with the DA. For once it wasn't on their minds.

Hedwig returned on Monday morning with the regular owl post looking exhausted. Harry fed her same bacon and some pumpkin juice before she flew off to the Owlery for a long sleep.

Hermione shuffled over to the read the letter.

_Harry,_

_Bill and I are well thank you. _

_You're letter was vague. However, I have the weekend off from Gringotts. I told Bill I would be coming to Hogwarts and he wishes to make a weekend of it. Professor Dumbledore has allowed us to stay over night._

_Fleur._

"Bill too?" asked Hermione, glancing at Harry.

"That might be a good idea," replied Harry, thoughtfully. "We don't know the older Weasley's very well. It can't hurt to invite him in either, could it?"

Hermione nodded and turned back to her breakfast. Harry was left to consider what he would tell Fleur and Bill when they arrived at the end of the week.

Tonks had finally replied to Harry's apology letter earlier in the week. She had apologized for now replying sooner, however her Auror and Order work had exponentially increased and would be unavailable for awhile. She also tried to console Harry with the knowledge that she wouldn't have spilled any secrets. He half believed her.

"Who's the letter from, Harry?" asked Ron, leaning over Hermione to take a gander. He was between inhuman sized bites.

"Fleur." Harry replied without looking. He folded the letter and pocketed it. "I asked her to marry me while I was at the Burrow and I finally got her reply."

There was a silence from the other side of Hermione. After several moments, Harry turned to see why. He immediately wished he hadn't.

"Bloody hell, Ron. Close your mouth already. Nobody needs to see that."

"Are you all right, Ronald?" asked a worried Hermione. "You're looking pale."

"I was joking!" Harry backtracked quickly, worried that Ron had actually believed him. "Remember Bill? He and Fleur are the ones getting married."

That seemed to bring Ron back online. He laughed a little too loudly, drawing a dozen or so odd looks.

Harry and Hermione exchanged concerned looks.

There was something strange about Ron these days.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione received a package on Wednesday. The official looking owl left the moment her package was removed.

"What's that?" whispered Harry, leaning in for a closer look.

"The rings I ordered."

The rings were to be the new method of communication between the new DA members. Using the old charmed galleons wouldn't work. That would alert all former DA members to their activities.

"How long will it take to charm them?" Harry sat back and began picking at his food.

"I can have them done by tonight if I work on them during lunch."

Harry nodded.

"Charm them for one p.m. on Sunday."

Ron interrupted their whispered conversation by plopping himself next to Hermione. "Harry, mate, can I talk to you after Charms?" he asked, not looking at him.

Harry shot a questioning look at Hermione who shook her head. "Sure," he answered uncertainly.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Extra lessons with Professor Flitwick were progressing relatively well in Harry's opinion. His new focus on performing in class didn't go unnoticed. Ron had even made several further comments about Harry becoming the male version of Hermione. Ron walked away from that conversation rubbing his right shin. Surely he knew Hermione would react…

After covering only theory the previous week, Flitwick announced he would test Harry's current abilities. Flitwick proclaimed a master duelist could fight with everything in his repertoire and utilize everything in the surrounding area.

Harry learnt this lesson the hard way.

The first of two duels had gone poorly. Harry had cast a stunner, followed by an Impedimenta Jinx and a Reductor Curse. The spells that Harry had relied on at the Department of Mysteries were useless against Flitwick. All three spells were shielded or parried. Flitwick had then cast an Atmospheric Charm, creating a torrent of rain directly over Harry. The torrent was so strong that even an Impervious Charm left his vision completely obscured and the next thing he knew he had been laying on the ground, soaked from head to toe.

The second duel wasn't any better. Harry had managed to dodge and shield his way through a short barrage of spells, only to find himself cramped up against the wall. He'd managed to destroy the first table sent his way, but completely missed the one coming from his side.

Despite the horrendous, and embarrassing, defeats, Harry was learning. The next time they would duel he would not make the same mistakes.

Regular lessons were rapidly becoming easier. Tuesday's Charms lesson was learning the Aguamenti Charm. Non-verbal spells were required now, not only in Defense but Transfiguration and Charms as well. Most of the year was still unable to perform non-verbal spells and got by by whispering incantations and hoping the teachers hadn't noticed. Ron was one of those people.

"_Aguamenti,"_ Harry heard Ron whisper. Little more than a trickle escaped his wand. Ron let out a frustrated grunt and cast a _Scourgify_ spell to clear up the mess.

Harry's free time was still spent reviewing previous year's spells silently. He was beginning to find it easier and easier to learn the simple spells. Some of the stronger spells, like his Shield Charm, were noticeably weaker, however, when cast silently. Hermione reassured him that this was a normal phenomenon and that he merely required practice to give strength to his non-verbal spells.

"_Aguamenti,"_ Harry thought strongly in his mind. Confidence was also a factor. If one was not confident in one's abilities, if one didn't believe the magic would work, if one didn't picture the result in their mind, the magic wouldn't respond. Wizards were deeply in tune with their magic. Their state of mind affected their ability to perform magic.

A steady flow of water expelled from the tip of Harry's wand for ten seconds before it lost power.

Beside him, Hermione cast the charm silently, creating a steady flow of water that lasted roughly the same amount of time.

Ron noticed the respective successes of his two friends and erratically cast a whispered _Aguamenti_. The seven people in the row in front of the trio were soaked within seconds. The spray died down and left a tense silence as everyone turned to look at Ron and at their soaked classmates.

"Oh dear." Hermione whispered, and she erected a shield. Harry did the same, and Neville followed suit.

The following two minutes was pandemonium as the entire front row of students cast their own jets of water directly at Ron.

"You have to admit, you had it coming after spraying everyone," said Harry after class. He couldn't resist grinning at his friends' misfortune.

"Suppose I did," Ron replied with a shrug. "But did Susan and Hannah both have to go for my face? Their jets were bloody strong!"

Hermione refused to say anything but couldn't keep the grin off her face. She bid the two farewell and disappeared off to Arithmancy.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. The two of them kept walking, headed nowhere in particular.

"Well, you see… Um. Erm."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this but didn't say anything. It was a rare sight to see Ron so flustered.

"It's, um, well, it's about Hermione." Ron eventually managed. Harry grimaced.

"I figured so, since you didn't want her around."

Ron's face became redder than he'd ever seen it. "Erm…well, I…I-I um…t-think I-I fancy her."

This didn't come as a surprise. His feelings for her, although poorly expressed, had been evident since the Yule Ball his and Hermione's massive fight. Harry didn't know what to say or what he should do. Ron and Hermione bickered and fought all the time (surprisingly not once yet this year). Was their friction an actual sign of affection towards each other and not a marking of how little they had in common or how little they got along?

Harry knew he should be supportive of his friend's feelings, yet both he and Hermione had neglected to Ron about the DA. The rare occasions they were alone, something always interrupted him. It was like something was trying to stop Harry from mentioning it at all.

But why was that? Ron was someone he could trust to stick with him.

Wasn't he?

An answer took longer to come than Harry wanted to admit.

Ron had proven that his jealousy would override his common sense, his logic. Harry's contempt for his fame, Ron knew. Yet he still claimed that Harry had entered himself in the Tri-Wizard Tournament to get more.

That was not the action of a true friend, someone who could be trusted in the tough times.

"Harry?"

"Oh, sorry," said Harry half-heartedly. He couldn't erase the unfriendly thoughts from his mind. "I already knew."

"Am I that obvious? Does Hermione know? What does she say about me?"

Ron's flurry of questions caught Harry off guard.

"Calm down. You are, she does, and I can't say. It's her place to tell you how she feels." Harry paused. "I've noticed you haven't been bickering since we came back."

"She does?" said Ron, panicking. "Merlin, she probably hates me. But I've been trying hard not to argue with her. What should I do?"

Harry was tempted to mention that Ron and Hermione had also spent far less time together but figured that would create unnecessary worries for his friend. No matter what unfriendly thoughts he was having, Ron was still his friend, his _first_ friend,and he would try and maintain that.

"Do you think you can survive an entire day around her, alone, without getting into an argument?" asked Harry.

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, an expression Harry couldn't honestly say he'd seen often. Harsh yes, but true nonetheless. "Yeah, I think I can."

Harry couldn't help but doubt it. "Then you have to tell her."

"But… but what if she says no?" 

Harry sighed, resisting an odd temptation to whack his friend over the back of the head. "What if she says yes? If you don't tell her, someone else will come along."

"Like who?" asked Ron, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief, scoff and threat.

"Doesn't matter."

"How doesn't it?"

"You're missing the point, Ron," Harry sighed exasperatedly. "If you don't ask her out and find out if you two can work or not, you'll miss your chance."

"If… What if she says no?"

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"Then your friendship will either be over. Or at least be strained for awhile."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So, I either tell Hermione I fancy her and she says yes, so we go out, I tell her and she says no and things will be weird between us for awhile or forever, or I don't tell her and someone else comes along and steals her from me." Ron summed up.

"She won't be _stolen _from you. Hermione isn't a possession. If you don't act and tell her, then you can never claim she was 'yours'."

Ron didn't seem to notice Harry's irritation. "Right. Blimey this is difficult stuff this girl business."

Harry thought of Cho, his only real experience on the matter, and couldn't help but agree. "Are we done?"

"Yeah," said Ron, much happier than he had been in some time. "Say, did you read the Quddditch scores in the Prophet yesterday? The Cannons just moved into the top ten for the first time…"

Harry tuned out the rest of Ron's obsessive discussion of the Canons.

He had been supportive. He had encouraged Ron to relate his feelings to Hermione and let that be the end of it one way or another. So why did he feel like he had just made a huge mistake?

-x-x-x-x-x-

Ron and Hermione weren't the only Gryffindor relationship in Hogwarts that crossed Harry's path that day. Harry had left dinner early to give Ron ample time to talk to Hermione. Taking a shortcut back to Gryffindor tower, Harry crossed a sight he rather wished he hadn't.

Ginny and Dean were snogging right in front of him.

It took several moments for Harry to recover. He cleared his throat.

The couple jumped so high Harry had to wonder if they were wearing springs. The two nervously stepped apart. They relaxed slightly when the saw who had caught them.

"Um, hi, Harry," Ginny mumbled, not meeting his eyes, and flushed the Weasley shade of red Ron was so well known for.

"Harry …" Dean mumbled, also not meeting his eyes.

"You're rather lucky it was me and not a prefect," said Harry in a strange voice that surprised him, and by the looks of it, Ginny too. "Find somewhere a little more secluded," he added in a more normal voice.

Harry left them there and returned to the common room in a bit of daze. Neville was working on an essay for Snape and Harry sat with him. It took mere moments to finagle what was bothering Harry out of him. Apparently Ginny and Dean weren't the only couple snogging around the school. Neville had walked in on Seamus and Parvati earlier in the day.

Hermione turned up half an hour later. She zeroed in one Harry the moment she saw him.

"We need to talk."

Neville and Harry exchanged looks. The tone was foreboding, to say the least.

The pair found themselves alone a minute later in Harry's dormitory.

"What did you say to him?" shrilly asked Hermione the moment she was sure they wouldn't be overheard. Harry winced at her tone. He had an inkling this would happened.

"I suppose Ron tried to, or did, ask you out?"

"Yes, he did! And I know you had something to do with it." Hermione wasn't angry, but she was visibly distressed. Her hands were making eccentric movements to punctuate her words and she started pacing. "Ron would never go out on a limb and ask me out unless someone," she gave Harry a glare, "convinced him too."

"He told me he fancied you after Charms."

"What did you tell him?"

"That if he wanted to know if you felt the same, he had to ask you and if he waited too long, someone else would come along." Harry sighed. "Some of the things he said make me believe he doesn't appreciate you properly."

Hermione ceased pacing. She didn't say anything.

"So what did you say?" asked Harry, his curiosity overpowering.

Hermione didn't answer. Harry didn't push.

"He was stuttering the entire time," she said after awhile, looking up at the ceiling. "Told me he fancied me and asked me on a date with him for the Hogsmeade weekend in two weeks. I… told him I'd answer later." Her gaze roamed the room before locking eyes with Harry again.

"I need help, Harry," her eyes were pleading with him. "What should I do? I don't even know if I fancy him or not. Would you be okay with that? Would our friendship survive if Ron and I were together?"

Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione, silencing her. With a hand on each shoulder, he bent slightly to Hermione's eye level and stared into her brown eyes that were glistening with confusion, heartache and fear. Harry didn't know what to say. He was never good at consoling someone. Would he be okay if his two best friends got together?

Harry decided, again, to be the supportive friend and let what would happen, happen.

"I'll tell you basically what I told Ron," he calmly said. "You won't know unless you try."

Hermione looked slightly crestfallen for a moment, and then righted her features into a guarded expression. The changes were so quick that Harry would've missed it if he hadn't been searching her face for a reaction.

"I should say yes then?"

Confused at her expression, he took a moment to respond. "I can't answer that, Hermione. Do you think that you can last a day without arguing with him? Are you comfortable with him alone? Do you trust him? This is something you have to figure out for yourself."

Hermione gave him a wry smile. "When did you learn anything about relationships?"

"From what I did wrong with Cho," he replied. Hermione cringed. "The one good thing that came out of her was learning what not to do."

Harry leaned into Hermione's shoulder, his arms around her in a semi-awkward hug, and closed his eyes. "If you say yes," Hermione's breath hitched, "Then you'll find your answer one way or another."

The two of them shared a moment of silence before parting. Hermione bade Harry goodnight. Half an hour later, while Harry was failing to distract his troubled mind with non-verbal spells, Ron entered, almost skipping across the dorm.

"She said yes!" said Ron in a loud, excited whisper.

"Good for you, mate." Harry said tiredly. Ron didn't pay him any mind as he went about preparing for bed. He was so elated he didn't notice that he was putting on his Quidditch robes until Seamus pointed it out.

Harry readied himself for bed. He couldn't concentrate properly on his non-verbal spells while thinking about his two friends and what this meant for them.

What now? Hermione and Ron would naturally spend more and more time together. Would they stay friends?

His parents had loved him, he was sure of that, but Harry couldn't remember what it felt like to be loved. Seamus often bragged about his conquests, though Harry didn't believe he loved any of them. Nobody had ever realized that he had never felt love in living memory. His friends and classmates were beginning to pair off with one another. Dean and Ginny, Seamus and Parvati and now Ron and Hermione… how could he fall in love without knowing what love was?

When Harry finally drifted off to sleep, his dreams were turbulent. At one point Dean and Ginny and Ron and Hermione were laughing, drinking Butterbeers together, while Harry watched from the side, alone.

Ron found Harry the next morning, sitting up in bed, staring at his bed sheets.

"Alright, mate?"

Startled, Harry noticed Ron watching him. "Yeah," he replied. Ron shrugged, put on his robes and left.

_It's too late now_.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Transfiguration was rapidly becoming the most difficult class for sixth year Gryffindors, save for Hermione and Harry. Hermione's natural studious nature and Harry's continued practice of non-verbal magic in much of his free time enabled the pair to adequate perform living-to-non-living and non-living-to-living transfigurations.

Other Gryffindors weren't quite as adept. Several could be seen in the corners of the common room in evenings with strained expressions, attempting fruitlessly to transform their pets into opera glasses, as had been the latest lesson. Harry had managed to transform Hedwig completely, except for four feathers protruding from the outside corners of the lens. McGonagall claimed it was an incomplete transfiguration, but was pleased with his progress nonetheless.

Tonks had yet to reply to Harry's summons. It seemed ever more likely that she was preoccupied with Auror or Order business. Harry wasn't worried.

At lunch on Thursday, Hermione took Harry aside and passed him several rings.

"They're charmed?"

"Of course," replied Hermione, rather proudly. "The process took a little longer than I estimated because of… well, we were busy last night." The two fell silent for a moment.

"We have Potions this afternoon; we can give Ernie his, Susan's and Hannah's, and Padma hers, Su's and Luna's," Harry figured.

"I already gave Neville and Katie theirs."

"And Daphne?" asked Harry. "You're done with Ancient Runes for the week, aren't you?" Hermione nodded. "I'll find her with the Marauder's Map, then."

With that sorted, the two fell into an uncomfortable silence. Harry examined the rings. There was little special about them except for the engraved numerals and letters. They were silver and looked to be amongst the cheapest one would sell. That didn't matter as long as they worked. Looks didn't take a high priority.

Harry looked back up at Hermione, fiddling with the ring with his fingers. He'd never worn any jewelry before and could already envision himself being fidgety with the piece.

Hermione was looking uncomfortable, uncertain. That was a first for the two of them. They had always been comfortable together.

"Is this how things are going to be between us now that you and Ron are… dating?" asked Harry, his voice filled with regret. This wasn't what he had thought would happen when he had encouraged Ron and Hermione the previous day.

Hermione couldn't honestly answer that and Harry knew. "You convinced him to ask me, even if you were just being supportive…"

"Yeah, I guess I did."

That thought offered no comfort as the two of them fell into another uncomfortable silence, both realizing that their friendship, which had risen to new heights not even a fortnight ago, might seriously suffer during the coming trials.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Potions was no longer a subject Harry would dread to attend. Although Slughorn's personality was overbearing on the best of days, Harry was learning a lot more now that they had a capable teacher.

The Half-Blood Prince's Potion book was proving to be a valuable find. Harry had attempted to prepare the potion in their third class following the same instructions as everyone else. Hermione was pleased when she was awarded first place for the day and didn't mention the book. The fourth class for the year, Harry had been unable to decipher the old instructions from the Prince's scribbling out. He contemplated asking to borrow Hermione's book but one look at her face filled with complete concentration over her own potion prevented him from disturbing her. Harry was awarded first place again much to Hermione's dismay.

"Don't you remember Riddle's diary?" asked Hermione with contempt as she eyed the book in his hand. "How do you know that that book is safe?"

"Hermione, I'm not writing in it, it's not writing back," Harry patiently reminded her. "It's not a piece of someone's memory, just an old schoolbook that someone used and forgot to take – hey!" Hermione grabbed the book from Harry's bag and cast several spells on it, like she had done after the first lesson and with the Diary four years prior.

"Let it go, Hermione," Ron unwisely added. "It's a useful book, Harry was just lucky enough to get that one while I had one that somebody puked on." Ron and Harry winced simultaneously.

Ignoring Ron, Hermione cast a few more spells, sighed and gave back the book. "Just be careful, Harry," She whispered to him so quietly that he nearly missed it. He nodded, confused at why she was so worried.

"What's this about a book?" a voice behind Harry said.

"Nothing you need to worry about, Ginny," Ron muttered. Harry turned to face the year younger redhead, who didn't look him in the eye. "Let's go Hermione, we've got patrol." Ron put an arm around her shoulders as he spoke. Hermione shrugged it off and give him a glare. The two of them started walking off together.

"Harry," called Ginny impatiently.

"It's nothing like Riddle's diary," said Harry, turning to face her before Ginny could say anything more. "It's a potions book where someone has changed some of the instructions to work better. Why are you and Hermione so convinced the book is evil?"

Ginny harrumphed and started to walk by him. "Please don't tell Ron about what you saw yesterday." Then she entered the classroom and left Harry alone in the corridor.

He looked at the empty corridor and wondered: _Is it this what it's going to be like from now?_

Feeling that some target practice might be a good way to relieve his frustrations, the Room of Requirement became Harry's destination. It was only when he was standing outside the room that he realized he'd forgotten to give the rings to Ernie, Padma, Su and Daphne.

The Marauder's Map was invaluable in situations such as these. Harry retrieved the artifact from his trunk and muttered the phrase to active it.

A brief scan of the map established Susan and Hannah in their common room, Ernie patrolling the second floor, and… hang on.

Ron and Hermione were in an unused classroom on the third floor, alone, standing _very_ close.

He watched them for a full minute before he tore his eyes away in disgust.

_You should have expected this._ His mind told him. _They're together now; of course they'll __go__ off and start snogging. That's __a part__ of being boyfriend and girlfriend._

Those thoughts did little to appease his darker thoughts.

_Everyone's changing. I know I'm different, Neville's stronger, more confident, Ginny's more outspoken than she used to be, Luna is more open to people now that she has more friends. I suppose that leaves Ron and Hermione moving closer together._

He avoided the part of the map where Ron and Hermione were. Padma and Su still needed to be found. He switched his entire focus onto them. Su was in her common room, and Padma was in a room on the fifth floor, probably making her own rounds.

Harry his dorm and descended several sets of stairs to reach the fifth floor. A second cursory look at the map found that Padma hadn't moved from the room.

He knocked on the door.

Footsteps, and then, "Harry?" Padma was clearly surprised to see him. She wasn't wearing her robes, either; she wore a navy blue top and blue jeans.

"Hi, Padma," said Harry a little awkwardly. He hadn't expected to come across her like this. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

She was silent for a moment and then smiled. "Not at all. Come in. I'm just surprised you knew I was here." Harry didn't miss the subtle question in her tone.

The room Harry believed to be unused in fact contained a fireplace, a pair of tables, two bookshelves, a filing cabinet, several wooden chairs, and a pair of comfortable looking burgundy armchairs. Parchment and textbooks were scattered over one of the tables, and her robes were strewn over the other. The room was warm and cozy. It felt like someone had made it their hideaway.

"Wow," remarked Harry, genuinely surprised. "Has this always been here?"

She shook her head. "I asked Professor Flitwick for a place to study by myself when I received my Prefect badge" she explained, leaning against the now closed door somewhat nervously.

"I can understand not wanting to study in the common room, but why not the library?" He turned to face her as he spoke.

She gave him a small smile.

"I find it too constricting in there." Padma admitted. "I need a place to relax, otherwise I can't work properly. Madam Pince hovers too much. She makes me nervous."

Harry could understand that.

"Besides," she continued with a dark eyebrow raised. "Just because I'm a Ravenclaw doesn't mean I spend all my spare time in there."

"Right, sorry."

Padma smiled at him gently, finally stepping away from the door. "You need to lighten up a little, Harry. I was only teasing you."

"Err, yes, well, here." Harry said, flustered. He pulled out three of the rings he had and passed them to Padma.

"For Su and Luna?" she surmised, holding two of them up. Harry nodded. "I'll deliver them," she promised, placing them in a pocket. She toyed with her own for a moment and reached to her neck, removing a necklace chain.

Harry found himself captivated as Padma placed the ring on the chain and put it back around her neck. He completely missed the smile on her face.

"Ah, yeah, that's all I needed to do." Harry said after a moment. He gestured meekly at her work and made motions to leave. "I'll just leave you to it."

"Nonsense, Harry." Padma said, stepping in front of him. "Stay. Let's talk for a bit. I barely know you and you me." She then added with nowhere near as confidence, "Unless you have somewhere to be…"

Harry thought of Ron and Hermione alone in a classroom together.

"Okay."

Padma grinned and practically bounced over to the second armchair, bringing it closer to the fire. "Take a seat."

Perplexed at her attitude, Harry agreed without protest. Padma essentially fell onto her armchair, letting out a sigh, and made herself comfortable.

"Tell me, why did you leave out so many details in your background?"

Harry grimaced. "You noticed."

"Please, Harry. I'm not one of the brightest of my age for no reason." She gave him a smile to show she wasn't offended.

He sighed. "The details aren't common knowledge and not something I want to share with just anybody." He then added more to himself than her, "Not if they have the relevance I'm beginning to believe they do."

Padma seemed to accept this response. She switched positions on the armchair, sitting side on, legs over one arm. Harry purposely avoided looking at her.

"All right, I guess I can accept that for now. Now, it's your turn."

"My turn?" Harry faced her; she was studying him with surprising intensity. _What is she doing?_

"Ask me a question. I asked you, now you ask me. Ask me anything and I will try and answer whatever it is." She shook her head. "There are a few things I won't answer. Just like you, I imagine."

Harry felt that was only fair. He also felt that he was being trapped, but no idea how or to what end. Not really concentrating, he asked the first thing that came to mind.

"Why are you and Parvati so different?"

Padma rolled her eyes.

"I suppose you get this question a lot?" asked Harry, cringing a little.

Padma paused for a moment, staring into space, lips moving silently. "Forty-seven times in the first term alone our first year. I've never answered any of them."

"I'll ask something else then."

"No, you've shared with me more than I have you. I'll tell you this story."

The dark-skinned girl sat up and faced Harry properly.

"When we were a lot younger, Parvati and I were on holiday in Germany." Padma said. Her tone was slightly airy as she recalled the day. "Our parents took us to the Quad to pick us out birthday presents."

"While we were there, I was separated from my parents in the crowd." Padma elaborated a little after seeing Harry's blank expression. "The Quad is a magnificent centre of architecture and wizarding culture, but it's horribly easily to lose someone in the throng of people. It's Europe's largest wizarding shopping district."

"The Quad being unfamiliar territory, and three times the size of Diagon and Knockturn Alley combined; I was in a bit of a fix." Padma smiled a little at her recollection. Harry didn't say anything, curious as to where this was leading to, and as to how wizarding children spent their time before Hogwarts. "I wandered into this book store while trying to find Parvati and my parents. The man in there came over, seeing a little girl by herself, no doubt looking lost, and talked to me. He sent a Patronus to alert my family where I was. While I waited he showed me around the store." Padma shook her head, smiling. "I was instantly enthralled. I'd read through half a French history book by the time my parents picked me up."

Padma leant back into her chair and closed her eyes. "Parvati had walked passed a seamstress and was in love with a dress she was making at first sight. My parents bought it for her and ever since she's been obsessed with clothing and fashion. Me? I have yet to lose my passion for learning"

"Does that suffice, Mr. Potter?" she asked teasingly.

"Yeah," said Harry distractedly. It was strange how one event could set people on completely different paths. Had Padma not entered that book store, she wouldn't be who she was.

"Does that mean it's my turn again?" she asked rhetorically. "Well, I have a question that I'm sure half the school wants to know. What's your relationship with Hermione Granger?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You weren't taken in by Rita Skeeter, I hope," he said a little heatedly.

"Not at all." Padma replied without missing a beat. "I want my information first hand if I can have it. Books are excellent sources but are subject to too much bias to be entirely accurate."

_Wow. Hermione would be livid at such a view._

"You don't have to answer." Padma added in an apologetic tone. "I have no right to pry. I'm just curious."

"It's okay." Harry said with a careless wave of his right hand. "I asked something personal."

He considered his answer.

_My relationship with Hermione? There's no relationship beyond friendship. Ron is the one who fancies her. They're together now, after all._

Unconsciously, Harry's expression darkened the more he considered Ron and Hermione together.

"There's no relationship between us." Harry said. It came out a little forcefully, and the next part a little bitterly. "We're friends, nothing more. Ron is the one in a relationship with her."

The relaxed, friendly atmosphere that had grown since the conversation began dissipated almost instantly. The pair sat in silence, something Harry was becoming all too familiar with.

Padma, risking a negative response, asked, "You're feeling left out?"

"Hermione's been my friend since that first Halloween." Harry replied darkly. "Ron's been my friend since the train ride here. They were my first two real friends."

Padma struggled with her curiosity. _Harry didn't have any friends before he came here? How can that be? He's the most famous wizard this century, how could be friendless until he was eleven? Did his relatives really treat him so poorly? I know what he has said, but still…_

"I'm sorry," said Harry suddenly, startling Padma. The young man was shaking his head. "I don't mean to bother you with this. I'd better go and let you finish your homework." Before Padma could say anything, Harry was out the door and gone.

Padma sat in her chair a little stunned. Their talk had been shorter than she would've liked, but informative nonetheless.

_Harry Potter…_she mused, leaning further into the chair. _Just what has happened to you in your life?_ Shaking her head to clear her mind, Padma returned to her homework with renewed determination to discover more about Harry Potter.

-x-x-x-x-x-

_Well done, Harry, you just pushed your problems on to a near stranger. Bravo._

The self-chastising went on for nearly a minute. However, the reason Harry had gone to find Padma in the first place returned to the forefront of his mind and provided something else to focus on. The Marauder's Map showed the three Hufflepuffs in their common room and…

Well, that's interesting.

Daphne was in a room in the dungeons with Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Tracey Davis. Malfoy, flanked by his goons, were standing in front of the other four sixth year Slytherins.

What was going on there? Had she been found out, or was she all along working for him?

But what could see reveal? The oath she took prevented her from mentioning anything he had discussed and who the other members of his group were. This had to be about something else.

The decision to do a little reconnaissance was an easy one. In the several minutes it took for Harry to reach the dungeons the Marauder's Map showed little movement. Harry also encountered few people on the way, and nobody once beyond Slughorn's classroom. The rooms here, on route to the Slytherin common room, were unused – or at least no classes were in them. Malfoy was using one these rooms.

A whispered Silencing Charm on his feet enabled Harry to approach the door to the room silently. Unfortunately, he couldn't hear a word through the thick wooden door. And a likely Imperturbable Charm, of course.

Footsteps hit Harry's ears and he panicked. He was out in the open, without his Invisibility Cloak. He drew his wand, silently cast _Alohomora_ on a door a dozen meters ahead of him and hid himself inside, cursing his lack of his Cloak. A pair of seventh year Slytherins passed him by, talking loudly about something inane.

Before Harry could consider another course of action, the door to the room Malfoy was in opened and the ferret in question, and his goons, left. He had a disgustingly smug look on his pale face. Crabbe and Goyle, still looking as gorilla like as ever, were chortling at something. Nott, Parkinson and Davis appeared moments later and the six of them headed past Harry back to their common room. Daphne emerged a minute later; her face was set hard, and she went off in the other direction.

_What was that all about?_

Harry, after checking to make sure the coast was clear, followed her. It took a minute and the map to find her and catch up. She was leaning against a wall in an unused corridor, eyes closed.

"Daphne." Harry said, announcing his presence.

She didn't open her eyes. "What did I say about talking to me in public, Potter?"

Harry scowled a little. "We're completely alone here. I checked."

"What do you want, then?" she asked, her tone less than inviting. However, she opened her eyes and faced him.

Harry glared at her. _Hermione better be right about her._

"Here." Harry tossed her a ring. "First meeting date is on there. It'll warm up when the date changes, so keep it on you. Don't let it get into the hands of someone else."

Daphne gave the ring a cursory examination and stuck it in her pocket. She pushed herself off the wall and started walking towards him.

Harry said nothing until they were level.

"Don't suppose you want to tell me what all you sixth year Slytherins were up to."

Daphne stopped in her tracks just behind him. She didn't move. At all. "How?"

"I have my ways." Harry replied cryptically. "Care to enlighten me now?"

Harry had no way of being ready for it. It took less than a second for Daphne to turn, grab his right arm and push him up against the wall. Harry's mind clouded with the sudden pain, and his vision blurred as his glasses became askew.

"What the hell, Daphne?" whispered Harry furiously.

"I made an oath to keep your business quiet." Daphne whispered into his ear. Her breath was warm on his ear and it tickled, despite the situation. "I made no such agreement about you entering my business. This doesn't concern you. Go back to Granger and Weasley." She paused and then added, "Or are they too busy with each other now? Try Abbot or Bones, then, I'm sure they'd love your company."

How'd she known about Ron and Hermione? They hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet. And just what was she implying about Susan and Hannah?

"Understand me, Potter?"

Harry didn't reply at first. Daphne pushed harder at his silence and the pain returned in full force.

Angered, he demanded her to let him go.

"Not until we've reached an understanding."

"If Malfoy is up to something, it's my business." Harry snarled.

Daphne growled and pushed him against the wall once more, then let go. Harry reacted in an instant, spinning and grabbing her, pushing her up against the other wall. He had her hands trapped up against the wall.

"Let go, Potter," said whispered. Her tone promised pain if he didn't comply.

"Answer me first."

"Let _go_, Potter."

"If he's planning to hurt people, I have to stop him."

"Harry, let go."

Harry was caught off guard at having her call him by his real name and paid for it. Daphne, using her legs, pushed him off of her.

"You do _not_ touch me. Got it?" Daphne demanded. Harry glared at her, his breathing surprisingly heavy. "And let it go, Potter. If someone finds out what he's up to, he'll know one of us leaked it and won't rest until he knows who. That'll be far worse for both of us."

She turned to go.

"Damnit, Daphne." Harry said in desperation. "We're long past the schoolyard prank or fight era. He's a Death Eater. Whatever he's up to will hurt innocent people."

"You know, huh," she said, surprised. She'd stopped moving again, but didn't face him. "Well, I can't say anything even if I wanted to."

"What do y–oh." Harry stopped mid-sentence as understanding flooded him. "He's using oaths too."

Daphne didn't respond – probably couldn't – and after a moment, left. Harry stood in the corridor alone, confused and irritated.

"Great. Just _great_."


	5. Steps Forward & Backward

A/N: Thanks to chem. prof for his beta work.

_**Chapter 5: Steps Forward & Backward**_

"Bloody terrific."

An angry, dissatisfied sound could be heard in one of the corridors near the dungeons. Harry was examining the Marauder's Map and not appreciating what he saw.

After gathering his wits after his conversations with Daphne, Harry had come to the conclusion he needed Hermione. He needed an intelligent mind, someone who would be able to find a way around an oath. Once he'd made certain he was still alone, he'd activated the map only to find Ron and Hermione still in the same unused classroom. The only difference was that Hermione was pacing in the room and Ron was stationary.

Harry leant back against the wall and sighed. _Hermione and Ron don't even believe me about Malfoy anyway. This time I can't really rely on them._

_I have no doubt he's a Death Eater. The way he jumped a mile when Madam Malkin tried to lift the sleeve on his left arm, and the clerk at Borgin & Burke's reaction to what was on there, is circumstantial evidence, yes, but I _know_ Malfoy._

Then there was the question of how did Bellatrix and her two cohorts sneak onto the Hogwarts Express and remained hidden until they struck?

_Someone on the inside was obviously aiding and abetting her. Malfoy's carriage was a little ways behind where Bellatrix initiated her attack. It would've been simple to create a little bit of distance between their carriages and then strike._

_And let's not forget his reaction when I outright claimed he was a Death Eater. No denial. He was more surprised than anything else. But not once did he even try to deny it._

_No, he's a Death Eater all right._

If Hermione was unavailable to him, there had to be sources he could peruse in the library. Harry shook his head at that. No, he needed a quicker answer than research would provide. It took moments for him to decide who he would ask.

Padma was no longer in her little hideaway. The map told him that. It also established that she was back in Ravenclaw's common room.

The locations of each house's common rooms were meant to be kept secret. However, Hogwarts wasn't a place where secrets could be kept for very long. The laxity in inter-house security, and the marvelous piece of magic that was the Marauder's Map, enabled Harry to know almost exactly where to go.

Almost was the operative word, in this instance, for Harry didn't know what was the catalyst was that opened the door, the password, or how long it might take for another Ravenclaw to pass by who would help.

After five minutes of fruitless searching and silent, except for his own footsteps, corridors, Harry decided to wait it out. He took a seat in the corridor he believed the entrance was and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift.

Fleur and Bill were to arrive on the weekend.

_How am I going to convince Fleur – and Bill, too, I guess - to trust _me_ over the Order? To be honest, there's not much I can offer them, or even much that they can do to help, at least at this stage. Perhaps I shouldn't have bothered her yet._

_  
But I know I can't trust the Order. While they're working against Voldemort too, they're susceptible to the same faults as their leader – Dumbledore. He's kept a lot from me over the years, so of which he had no right to keep from me, no matter his good intentions. If I'm going to work with people, I want to be able to trust that they'll trust me and won't do what they think is best for me._

_Hermione is someone I know will trust me. She's already made her mistake when she didn't tell me about the Firebolt. She's not the type to repeat the same mistakes._

_Ron…_

Three years ago, Harry wouldn't have questioned Ron's trustworthiness. But three years ago, Ron hadn't spent nearly two months claiming that he was some attention seeking cheat. That wasn't the actions of someone he could trust when things got messy.

More recent was his reaction to the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Ron hadn't expressed concern that Harry, Hermione and Neville were in danger. Instead, he'd expressed anger that he wasn't involved and, if Harry wasn't imagining things, reaping in the glory of defeating Bellatrix Lestrange.

The doubt that begun to plague his mind only increased as he contemplated his two friends in a relationship. There was only thing Harry was certain in this new situation: His friendship with Hermione was suffering.

"What are you doing here, Harry?" a serene voice cut through his thoughts. Harry looked up to see Luna smiling down at him, her blonde hair tied into a ponytail that lay across her right shoulder. She was carrying a book in one hand and, for some reason, her kooky glasses from the train.

Several questions passed through Harry's mind before he even considered answering. It was probably best that he didn't ask any. Luna's eccentricities could be a bit difficult and he wasn't in the mood.

"I've been waiting for a Ravenclaw to pass by." Harry replied. He looked her in the eye and added, "And unless I'm mistaken, you fit the criteria."

She laughed. Despite his mood, that made me him smile. It was good to see her laugh. Well, at least when it wasn't those loud ones. They were disconcerting.

"You're after Padma." It wasn't so much a question as a state of fact. Harry nodded. "I'll get her for you."

Without waiting for an answer, Luna was off down the corridor, skipping and humming to an odd tune. Harry sat in a state of silent amusement.

A few minutes passed before Padma came into view.

"Is everything all right, Harry?" Her tone indicated her worry. "Luna said you have been here for awhile."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How did… No, that's not relevant." He could ponder Luna's eccentricities another time. Harry offered a spot beside against the wall. "Here, take a seat."

Padma obliged, not quite close enough to touch him. Harry related the events of earlier to her.

She was in deep thought for several long moments. Harry swore he could sense her brain hurriedly deciphering the information that had been given, and formulating conclusions. She reminded him of Hermione in that way.

"I'm not sure I understand why you invited her in the first place." Padma stared at the opposite wall while she spoke. "But I don't believe she's working for Malfoy. At the same time, I don't believe she's working for us."

"Hermione vouches for her," said Harry slowly. "And I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for now. But the question remains: if she isn't in Malfoy's camp, why did she make an oath with him?"

"I can't answer that," replied Padma, shaking her head and looking up at Harry. "I don't know her. I can only assume she was either coerced or is playing both sides."

"If she were coerced, Malfoy – or Voldemort – would have to want something from her."

"Or her family." Padma added.

Harry stared at her. He hadn't thought of that. But he could consider that later.

"Right," Harry acknowledged. "What I actually came to ask you is, are their ways around oaths?"

"You want to find a way for Daphne to tell you what Malfoy said?" she deduced. "If the oath was an Unbreakable Vow, then no, it can't be broken, at least not without sacrificing your life."

"Who would make a vow on their _life_?"

"It isn't a widely used vow anymore." Padma explained. "Centuries again they were used in marriages, back when vows meant more than they do now."

Harry noticed the edge to her tone. He had no time to ponder it, however, as Padma was still speaking.

"There were many others uses as well, but it's not likely Malfoy used one. All other oaths have one loophole," she revealed. "That loophole is Legilimency."

Harry's heart sank. He had had enough trouble with Occlumency because of Snape's abuse the previous year; Legilimency probably would be worse. "To bypass the oath and get the information you want while keeping the person alive, you have to read their thoughts without the person knowing."

"So, you're telling me I have to use Legilimency on Daphne, find the right memory without her knowing that's what I'm trying to do?" asked Harry, and he couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Padma nodded. "If she knows you are the one invading her mind, she might consciously or unconsciously let you into her mind. That will be enough for a properly worded oath to take as a betrayal and, depending on the oath, remove her magic or kill her."

"You've got to be kidding me." Harry shook his head and faced the wall again. He didn't know Legilimency, and maintaining eye contact with Daphne long enough to find the specific memory without her knowledge was beyond him. He'd have to find another way. Still, he asked, "How often does this even work?"

"There are no records as far as I know." Padma admitted. "For all I know, this loophole is a lie. Hermione might know. She reads a bit more than me." Despite himself, Harry chuckled a little. Few, if any, read more than Hermione.

"Not that I mind, but how come you didn't ask for Hermione's help?" asked Padma. She instantly regretted it when she saw Harry's expression turn guarded and looked away.

_Again, I brought up Hermione. We were getting along so well and I bring up her. I'll be lucky if he doesn't leave like last time._

"She's busy."

"Oh, I see."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I brought that up again." Padma apologized sincerely. "I've got a habit of putting my wand in my mouth." Harry turned to stare at her.

"The wizarding world version is 'putting my wand in my mouth'?" he asked with an edge of disbelief. That was just a really, really poor substitute.

To Harry's surprise, Padma smiled and laughed at him. "Sorry," she said after she calmed down, wiping her eyes. "No, there is no wizard version for that saying, thank Morgana."

"Then that was…" Harry began. Padma nodded.

"Thought it might help the mood," she replied with a wide smile.

Harry, perplexed as ever with the opposite gender, couldn't help but smile back. "It's okay," he said slowly. "I think I'm just not used to the idea of my best friends together yet." Padma shuffled on the cold stone floor and leaned in onto Harry's shoulder. He tensed a little.

"Your first two friends getting together," Padma whispered, acutely aware that Harry had tensed up. "I won't say I know what you're going through, but it will go away soon enough. It's a position you've never been in, am I right?" Harry nodded stiffly.

"Relax," Padma said calmly. "You're more comfortable than the wall." Harry had to agree with that, feeling the cold, hard stone behind his head. Still, this was a new experience for him. It took him a minute to relax his muscles and even then he was wary.

"Since their relationship is new, Ron and Hermione would want to explore it." Padma explained. "They will most likely spend a lot of their free time 'getting to know each other'." Harry recalled the scene he had witnessed earlier in the day between Ginny and Dean, and his mind conjured up an unwanted image of Ron and Hermione 'getting to know each other' by snogging in a deserted corridor. He shuddered at the thought.

Padma moved a little closer to be more comfortable, her neck bothering her from the wall and then the awkward position on Harry's shoulder, and continued. "Once their relationship has gone on for a little bit, they'll start to calm down and then they'll be back. It's like newlyweds, who disappear off for a week or two and come back, totally involved in each other. After a little while, it wears off and things return to normal more or less, except that they're married." Harry couldn't honestly say he knew anything about that. It sounded as if she'd seen it happen.

"Or, it'd be like a kid with a new toy." Harry added. Harry had seen Dudley's enthusiasm over new toys before, so much enthusiasm in fact that most of the toys didn't survive their first week at Privet Drive, except for the computer games. Those lasted till Dudley had played through them twice and were discarded or crushed due to said cousins rather large behind.

Without conscious knowledge, Harry had tensed up again at his thoughts of his cousin. "Harry?" Padma asked, lifting her head to look at him closely. "Did I say something wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "Just memories," he muttered.

Padma thought for a minute, remembering past conversations, what he'd said about his cousins, before she put two and two together.

"Oh, Harry," Padma whispered softly. "I didn't mean to…I mean I'm sorry…" she struggled to convey her apology.

Harry had watched her put the pieces together, in both awe and dread. Padma was scarily smart in comparison to her sister, and even to some of the more intelligent students.

"Yeah, never really had a new toy in living memory," said Harry. "Minus Sirius buying me that Firebolt in third year…"

Padma did the only thing she could think of. She got on her knees, crawled in front of him, leaned forward and hugged him.

Harry had been hugged before by a few different people. By Mrs. Weasley every time she saw him after some time away, or as he was leaving. Hermione had hugged him over the years, the first one, his first hug in living memory that was just for him, and not as apart of the Quidditch team win, just before he confronted Quirrell in his first year. Hermione had hugged him in fear; fear that she might be wrong or that she might not see him again. She had also hugged him in greeting and goodbye, like friends do for one another. Ginny had hugged him in fear as well, when he rescued her from the Basilisk.

This hug was just for him. There was no fear; there was no friendly duty to it. The hug was simply passing on Padma's feelings of pity, sorrow at his past, his lack of a proper childhood and promises of a better future. Harry, feeling himself blush slightly, slowly wrapped his arms around Padma. He leant into the dark hair that had fallen forward over the girls' shoulders. His eyes closed. She was very soft…

They remained like that till Padma's knees began to protest.

Cursing the stone floor silently, Padma released Harry and sat back beside him. She returned to her spot on his right shoulder. This time Harry didn't tense at the sudden contact. Nobody had ever sat like this with him before. It was different.

Giving in to the situation, Harry closed his eyes and laid his head on top of Padma's. He was too tired after the emotional day to bother resisting or reacting to the new closeness.

What felt like seconds later, but must've been at least twenty minutes, Padma stirred underneath his head. He slowly removed his head and let Padma sit back up straight. Harry watched as Padma twisted her neck, attempting to remove the crick that had appeared by sitting in such an unusual position.

Harry watched her for a moment before realizing what he was doing and tore his eyes away to examine the corridor. Noticing he was still in Ravenclaw Tower, he quickly turned back to Padma, who was now facing him.

"I should be going. It must be nearing ten by now." Harry almost went to check his watch, which still hadn't been replaced since the Second Task. Before fourth year was the last time he had visited Diagon Alley.

Padma offered hers. It was five till ten. "I'll escort you back. I'm not on duty any more tonight but I can still move about after curfew without detentions."

Harry was about to protest that he could run back before ten, but Padma gave him a stern look that wasn't worth contesting. Harry got up and pulled Padma up with him. The Ravenclaw brushed out a few creases in her robes, took a step, stumbled, and crashed into Harry, knocking them both back to the ground. Padma ended up on top, lying between Harry's legs, her head on his chest.

"Ouch," Harry groaned. "That had better be an accident."

Padma's dark skin made her blushes less visible than the Caucasian male's she was currently in a compromising position on top of.

"Um-uh, th-that was completely unintentional," Padma answered, visibly flustered. She took a few breaths and managed to calm herself. Then, she said, "Though I can't say I'm not enjoying it."

_God, don't react, please._

Thankfully, Harry escaped without being embarrassed beyond belief. Someone must've figured he'd suffered enough without adding a reaction to the pretty young woman who'd be strewn over him

_That's quite far enough down that trail of thought._

Padma was giving him a sheepish look. "Sorry."

The subsequent trek to Gryffindor Tower was done in silence, and soon enough they had arrived at the corridor before the Fat Lady.

"Thank you for taking me seriously." Harry was the first to speak. And he was sincerely thankful that Padma didn't try and resist the idea of Malfoy being a Death Eater. She was taking him seriously and helping him. Something he couldn't say for Ron or Hermione.

"Thank you for not leaving abruptly after I said something stupid this time." Padma replied.

Harry wasn't sure what was to happen next. Should he hug her? After the hug she gave him and their fall not long ago, he didn't know where exactly they stood in a comfort ratio. Both could be innocent; however both could have motives too.

Similar thoughts were gracing Padma's mind. Both sixth years ended up making awkward movements at different times.

It was at this time the two of them were spotted.

"What is this?" a voice practically screamed. Harry jumped at the sudden loud voice, and so did Padma.

Harry and Padma found an irate looking Ginny Weasley glaring at them.

"Huh?" Harry asked unintelligently, keeping himself in front of Padma, at a loss to the sudden intrusion and anger from the redhead.

"Don't 'huh' me!" Ginny responded darkly. "What's going on here?"

"What do you mean?" questioned Harry quietly. _Was he doing something wrong? _He replayed his actions since he got back to Gryffindor Tower in his mind and didn't find anything that would cause Ginny to act out this way.

"You two. What are you doing with _her?_"

The two sixth years felt each other tense up at that. "What do you mean _her_?" Harry asked, far less patiently than before. "Padma has a name," he added, and none too warmly. What was her problem? Why did Ginny care who he was friends with? Where was this outburst coming from?

The infamous Weasley red rose in Ginny's cheeks. "I don't care! You shouldn't be here with _her_!"

It was as though something large and scaly erupted into life in Harry's stomach, clawing at his insides: hot blood seemed to flood his brain, so that all thought was extinguished, replaced by a raw need to agree with Ginny, to cast aside Padma and criticize her, tell her her place.

_But what has Padma done wrong? _A second, unaffected part of Harry asked. _What gives Ginny the right to tell who you can be friends with? What gives her the right to rule you, just like the Dursleys, and to a lesser extent Dumbledore, have done?_

The large and scaly creature was ruthlessly cast aside in Harry's growing anger.

"I have every right to be here with whoever I want to be." Harry countered firmly. "Padma is my friend; if I want to talk with her then I am entitled to." Padma placed a small hand on Harry's shoulder and gently squeezed her thanks. Unfortunately, Ginny noticed.

"Let go of him," she snapped. Padma, though surprised at her tone, didn't remove her hand.

"Ginny, what is your problem?" asked Harry. The redhead faced him again, her anger almost palpable. "What gives you the right to question who I spend time with when you're off participating in your…'extracurricular activities'?"

Ginny flushed further at the mention of Harry catching her and Dean earlier in the day.

"I haven't told Ron about what you're up to," Harry said. "I'm sure he'd love to hear what you've been up to in your free time." It was a threat, a minor one, but a threat nonetheless. Harry's ability to tolerate people was being severely tested already this year. Only his peaceful feeling from earlier, sitting with Padma quietly, kept him from lashing out like he had done the previous year to those unintelligent enough to push him.

"Come back when you're ready to _sincerely_ apologize," Harry dismissed her, attempting to end the confrontation now. Ginny's face was red with embarrassed and anger. She huffed and was a step away from adding her own retort when Harry's penetrating stare startled her. It was not something of fondness or even friendship; it was borderline disgust at her and her behavior. Ginny huffed again and barged past, entering the common room.

For what seemed like the hundredth time since he returned to Hogwarts, Harry sighed.

_This year was never going to be easy. Is this my comeuppance for how easily everyone agreed to the DA?_

For a third time today, Padma and Harry faced each other in an uncomfortable silence, stunned at the suddenness of Ginny's appearance, words and uncertain where to take things from here.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a while. What else could he say?

"What for?" Padma asked, regaining eye contact. "She's the one with a problem. You defended yourself and me." She then added with a grin, "I see what Susan and Hannah mean by your chivalry."

Harry's face threatened to color. Padma laughed.

Intelligently avoiding further embarrassment, Harry switched topics.

"It's probably past ten," Harry said. Pausing, thinking for a moment and then added, "Why was Ginny out after ten, then?"

Padma glanced at her watch. It was now ten past. "I have no idea." Padma replied. "Was she following us?"

Harry was too absorbed in his thoughts to have heard much on his way back. Padma had the same problem.

"Oh well," Harry said, disregarding his thoughts for the moment. "Goodnight, Padma."

"Goodnight, Harry,"

-x-x-x-x-x-

Friday passed very quickly. Lessons were getting gradually easier instead of harder for Harry. Because of the lack of homework and his extra lessons, designed not to destroy his mind but to improve his skills, Harry managed to not cave into stress like many other students, including Ron, were doing.

Hermione, amazingly, cast a quick spell to duplicate her notes for Harry to study before bed, saying that if he didn't have homework, he still should have the most in depth education he could, by referring to her notes. After quickly brushing over the first six parchments that were all for the first lesson of Defense, Harry was in no doubt about the quality of her work.

For once, Ron and Hermione sat on either side of Harry, distracting him from any thoughts about the DA. Neither caught the other's eye and Harry was at a loss as to why. _Did Ron mess up? Did Hermione mess up?_

Speaking of females, Harry found himself daydreaming more than once about the feel of Padma against him. He was far more acutely aware of how feminine she was and how many others were suddenly around him because of the DA.

Ginny was inconspicuous throughout the entire day, minus breakfast. All the while through breakfast, she kept shooting both Padma and himself dirty looks. He was a second away from saying something when Susan and Hannah, together as always, sat down on the opposite side of the Gryffindor table, distracting him.

"So, Harry," Susan began, a Cheshire grin on her face, her strawberry blonde hair in a ponytail.

"So, Susan," Harry replied, suddenly feeling very worried.

"Are the rumors true then?" Hannah asked, matching Susan's grin, her own blonde hair in her trademark pigtails.

Harry would've sighed if he wasn't on edge. "What rumors?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"You and Padma," Both of them answered. Ron and Hermione, who were sitting either side of him, looked up in interest. Harry didn't bother looking at their reactions.

"When has there ever been a rumor that was right about me?" Harry countered this new development.

Nobody answered.

"Right then." Harry concluded. He dove back into his meal, hoping that was the end of it.

"That means you're still available?" Susan asked, Hannah nodding in agreement.

Harry blushed. He couldn't help it. The pair had caught him completely off guard.

Beside him, Ron flushed and Hermione bit her lip, struggling not to laugh.

"If you put it that way…"

"We do." Hannah pointed out mischievously.

"Then yes."

Susan and Hannah began whispering to each other conspiratorially.

"Are you going to tell me who started this rumor?" he asked, interrupting their whispers. He had a suspect in mind, but didn't believe her to be stupid enough to do it. He was proven right.

"A Ravenclaw I believe." Hannah offered. "She said she came across you and Padma in a corridor near their dorm, kissing. She said she didn't want to get caught snooping so she moved on."

Harry thought back to the previous night. They most definitely hadn't kissed. They'd hugged, but not kissed. Perhaps this person had only seen their faces close together… Not that that was any better.

"We didn't kiss." Harry stated firmly. "We were talking and there were a few times, if someone couldn't see us properly, that maybe one could mistake us for it, I guess…"

That seemed good enough for Susan, Hannah and Ron; however Hermione gave him a questioning look. He could just hear her asking 'what were talking about with Padma and not me?' It was a line of questioning Harry did not want to address yet.

Talk drifted off into unrelated affairs.

Susan started up a conversation with the current Ministry's direction and entered a rather furious debate with Hermione over Scrimgeour's administration. The strawberry blonde revealed that her Aunt Amelia was contemplating the position of Minister of Magic before she had been murdered. In fact, that was probably half the reason she was targeted. The other half being that Amelia Bones was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And she wasn't someone who could be bought.

Hermione mentioned careers in the Ministry and Susan added her own knowledge of the inner-Ministry workings. Muggleborns were not permitted to hold Head positions in any department of the Ministry. Harry could see Hermione readying to launch into a tirade against the old fashioned pureblood ways and quickly diverted the topic to what the other two witches wanted to do with their lives.

From that discussion however, Harry was beginning to understand how the Ministry worked a little more. It didn't mean much at the moment, but it was useful to know that Susan, a member of the DA, knew how exactly the Ministry worked. That knowledge could prove invaluable one day.

"I honestly haven't thought about it," Susan answered after a moment's thought. "Before Auntie… I wanted to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement alongside her, but now…" she shook her head sadly. "Memories might interfere."

Hannah answered next, after a brief moment of silence in memory of Amelia Bones, even though Ron and Hermione had never met her.

"I want to travel, to explore the world," Hannah said, her eyes glazing over and a small smile lighting up her face. Harry could tell she was enthusiastic about traveling just from that. In fact, almost anyone could.

"There's so much to see in both the Muggle and Magical world. There are landmarks and landscapes that are beautiful and magnificent all in their own way."

"How would you convert that into a career?" Hermione asked after swallowing some more of her potatoes.

"An author or a journalist, I was thinking," Hannah replied. "But after Rita Skeeter's works…" Harry and Hermione flinched slightly. "I might write a novel, or a travel book for the countries I visit. Sometimes I have a vivid imagination, so I doubt I'll have too much trouble writing a novel. Exploring and taking in many different sights and cultures can only help me improve a novel I might write."

Harry thought on Hannah's words for a moment. He knew very little of what the world actually looked like. Glimpses of what the telly showed when he was nearby, what he saw on the way to and from London, London itself, Hogwarts and the train ride to Hogwarts were all he had really seen. He doubted he could write a well written novel from his lack of knowledge of what the world looked like.

Traveling around the world itself sounded like a great adventure, one that would hopefully have no out of the ordinary dangers for him, if he managed to survive long enough to attempt one.

Harry thought about his own future. The previous year he had wanted to become an Auror. With the way things were between himself and the Ministry at the moment that was unlikely for two separate reasons. The first was the Ministry's current relationship with him, and the second was the way the Ministry treated people. He wasn't sure he wanted to work for a government that was so readily capable of launching propaganda campaigns against someone for telling a truth they wished not to believe.

Harry finished up his dinner and begged leave to attend his next extra-class. There had been no extra training the previous night. McGonagall and Flitwick had decided to test Harry's progress the following night, i.e. tonight, in a joint affair, giving him the now previous night off. He was to put to use all of his abilities to try and beat Flitwick. Harry didn't believe for a second he was good enough to beat Flitwick. He was learning his current limits, which were changing after each lesson, yet he wasn't about to give in without giving Flitwick a hard time.

After all, if you're going to lose, give them hell before you go down.

Seven o'clock found Harry in an unused classroom on the fourth floor. McGonagall and Flitwick were standing at one end of the room, and Harry at the other.

"Now, Mr. Potter, we've taught you a few skills not in the school's curriculum and have worked at sharpening your present ones." McGonagall said. "You are here to demonstrate whether our work is worth the effort." She gave him a tight lipped smile and stepped aside, setting up a barrier to protect from astray spells.

Flitwick and Harry bowed to each other.

The room was littered with old furniture, pieces of wood, sticks, stones and other debris. This was to emulate an uncontrolled arena, where items sitting nearby could be utilized for defense or offense.

Harry faced down Flitwick, his focus at its peak. He would do everything he could to make his two new mentors proud. He had to. One day his and his friends' live would rely upon his skills. There was no way he would fail them because he didn't focus enough.

Flitwick had agreed upon Harry making the first move. The battle, while attempting to mimic a real life duel, was still carefully controlled. The diminutive professor wouldn't be dueling at his capacity, for that was formidable, far too formidable for Harry to handle now. This demonstrative duel was more about Harry performing what he'd learnt correctly.

The sound of his own breathing was all Harry could hear for several moments. Then, he made his move.

Several sticks and stones were levitated and shot in Flitwick's general direction. Then in the same set of motions, Harry transfigured a wooden chair into a wooden shield. It wouldn't hold out more than one spell, and even a precise shot would break it without issue. However, it would suffice, for he wasn't able to change the composition of such a large object without more concentration than he was willing to spare.

Flitwick summoned and overturned table that intercepted the projectiles, all of which embedded themselves in the table, before it was cast aside. A short series of generic spells erupted from the man's wand. Harry dodged all of them, having kept on the move. It was always better to keep on the move. If you stood still you presented too much of a target, whether to the opponent in front or the unknown behind.

With a sweep of a wind, a chair caused Flitwick to cease his assault and step aside from the rushed distraction. The chair shattered into half a dozen pieces, none of which ever made it to the ground. Each piece was sent back towards Harry, who maneuvered his wooden shield to block the shots.

Harry barely noticed the two stones fired rapidly in time to move aside. However his shield was punctured by both stones, leaving two gaping holes. The sound of the stones hitting the back wall made Harry winch. That would've hurt.

Discarding the shield, Harry quickly cast several cutting curses as a distraction. Flitwick parried each of them, one accidentally hitting McGonagall's barrier, and retaliated with a bright-yellow spell Harry had never seen.

"_Protego!_"

A translucent wall appeared and blocked the spell, but the damage was done. The focus on the shielding the unknown enabled Flitwick to get off half a dozen good shots at him.

The _Protego_ shield was a valuable shield to any wizard's arsenal. As with any spell however, it had its limitations. The shield would change its composition after the first spell connected, making it stronger against that spell but weaker against others. Casting three different spells or a spell in-between two others made a shield far less effective. If you knew this, or were able to recognize the style of spells used to destroy a shield quicker, you could concentrate on the shield to prevent any degradation due to your opponent switching spells over and over.

Snape had taught him that, and that disgusted Harry a little. The man treated him like dirt. Whatever reasons he had, there was no excuse. Harry didn't trust him and refused to show Snape the extent of his growth. The longer he underestimated Harry the better, and it could make all the difference one day.

Flitwick was also well aware of this fact about the shield charm. That's why the spells he shot were all different, causing Harry to focus entirely on maintaining his shield. He didn't have the time to dodge.

The maneuver nearly cost Harry the match. But the last spell luckily rebounded off the shield towards Flitwick, causing the professor to halt the spell he was about to cast and shield himself.

Harry immediately cast a spell he'd recently come across – the incantation was '_Deprimo_' and caused immense downward pressure upon the target. If enough pressure, the spell could break bones. However, Harry cast the spell only enough to hamper the little man's movement.

Another chair nearly hit Harry, causing him to duck to the ground. He rolled aside from two more, and blasted a table out of the air. It appeared Flitwick wasn't troubled by the spell he'd cast. If he couldn't move at a decent speed, he would simply stand still and stay on the offensive.

A second blasting curse blew apart another table and Harry followed up with a number of banishers, forcing Flitwick to parry them and cease his onslaught. The break allowed Harry to regain his feet, but he was breathing hard. He wasn't going to last much longer.

He started to move, but he, unbelievably, slipped on a patch of ice, not having noticed it appear. Amazingly, he managed to dodge an incoming _Expelliarmus_ due to the fall. But it was too much to continue on. He felt a dozen or so little pricks against his skin and realized Flitwick had banished broken pieces of furniture at him. Harry got to knees to find a table flying straight for him with no time to cast anything.

The table stopped mere centimeters from Harry's nose. He slumped backwards, breathing a sigh of relief.

He'd lost. But then, he'd never expected to really win. It took Harry several moments but he sat up and, wincing every so often, removed the splinters he'd received. A few of them caused him to bleed, which he would deal with in a moment.

McGonagall and Flitwick were conversing while Harry rid himself of broken wood. The small man looked completely unharmed, but his breathing was slightly increased. Harry smiled a little. At least he'd made the professor sweat, even if just a little. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was improving. He could feel it.

Several minutes later, the pair finished talking and Harry had caught his breath. He could feel weariness in his bones and knew he would need to have a nice long sleep after the day's work and then the duel.

Harry tensed and sat a little straighter as the pair approached him, preparing himself for whatever criticism he would receive. Neither professor was smiling, though that was no indication. McGonagall rarely smiled and Flitwick appeared to enjoy the dramatics. The things you learn.

"Mr. Potter," began McGonagall. She paused for a moment and let out a rare tight lipped smile. "I'm impressed at your progress. Few your age would top your efforts this year given your past education."

Harry's spirits soared. He'd impressed her. Classes would continue for certain.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall." Harry replied sincerely.

"Now, Mr. Potter," chimed in Flitwick. "Your efforts were very pleasing. Your awareness of your surroundings enabled you to defend yourself against many attacks and you utilized them in an offensive capability just as well. Towards the end, I noticed you didn't focus as strongly on everything around you, which led to your slip up on the patch of ice I'd formed." 

Harry nodded, knowing that was the case. When he'd had to focus on his shield, his awareness on anything but the immediate spells coming his way was lost.

"Your variety in attacks was acceptable, and I will teach you a wider variety as the year progresses. By the end of the year, I am certain you will be a force to be reckoned with."

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick." Harry said, and he was sincere in his gratefulness.

A thought niggled at his mind. "Professors," he said uncertainly. "Do wizards ever use two wands at once?"

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged looks. Harry could tell it wasn't a common question.

"What makes you ask, Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall, her tone curious.

"For a short time, I was using two wands at once on the Hogwarts Express." Harry explained. "But it was tiring and I ended up returning to a single wand."

"It's a rare practice, but not unheard of." Flitwick replied slowly. "However, using twice as much magic twice as quickly drains the user. It's not highly recommended unless only in short bursts. Then there are issues of wand compatibility."

Harry nodded. He could feel his energy decreasing rapidly when he used two wands. It was impractical at best.

"Does that answer your question, Mr. Potter?" asked Flitwick.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Mr. Potter, you should let Madame Pomfrey check over you," said Professor McGonagall, changing the topic. "Your injuries appear minor but she would have our heads if we let you go like this."

Harry rose to his feet, shook hands with Professor Flitwick and bade them farewell before leaving. McGonagall and Flitwick shared a knowing glance, both thinking the same thing.

Regardless of whatever Voldemort wanted with him, the next time he came, Harry Potter would not be an easy mark.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Madame Pomfrey had had many patients throughout her years. She had re-grown many bones, healed innumerable cuts and bruises, given out hundreds of calming draughts to students freaking out over exams, and even had to deal with a few unexpected pregnancies, to both her and the Headmaster at the time's displeasure.

Sex wasn't exactly permitted within the castle walls, or the grounds for that matter.

Over the years, she had developed friendships with some of her patients. Right now four of those former patients were respected Healers at St. Mungo's. Her current favorite patient had been in one of her beds more times that any other student. And here he was again.

Harry Potter had entered her wing with a dozen or so minor cuts. She didn't bother asking the origins of the injuries. She knew from the staff room conversations that Mr. Potter was taking extra classes and didn't pester the teenager with questions on something this minor.

Poppy quickly cast a few healing spells to heal the cuts before letting him go. Her job was only going to get harder now that the war was out in the open. St. Mungo's was unprepared for extensive casualties and the excess was always sent to her. Maybe she should take up an apprentice? She did have a young woman who had expressed interest, after all…

-x-x-x-x-x-

Across the English Channel, Fleur Delacour lay on her bed. The Delacours were very wealthy, and her bed and room reflected that wealth. The bed was an expensive four-poster king sized one, covered with satin sheets and frilly pillows. The remainder of the room was furnished with a chifforobe, wardrobe, dresser, floor length mirror and a window with an expansive view of the Delacour property grounds. The room was mostly colored burgundy, like her furniture. The color had taken a shine to her from when she was young.

As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, she thought of two major things. The first was one Harry Potter. He had sent her a letter several days prior, asking if she would come speak with him at his school – Hogwarts. He'd only asked for her; however Bill had been with her at the time and recognized Harry's beautiful snowy owl. She couldn't just tell him it was for her eyes only, could she, especially when she'd had no idea what the letter would entail. Bill had essentially invited himself along and Fleur had mixed feelings about that.

Harry Potter was an enigmatic young man. Her first impression of him had been less than impressive. A skinny, bespectacled little boy was all she'd seen. However, that had changed when that same little boy had risked his life and, what he'd thought the life of his own hostage, for her sister in the Second Task. An act of selflessness like that wasn't taken lightly.

And so she'd watched him the remainder of the Tri-Wizard Tournament trying to unravel the mysteries of Harry Potter. There were times when she caught him with his eyes lit up with joy, and then times when they were darkened, clearly troubled. Despite this, he was a gentleman.

He was also unaffected by her Veela aura.

That had been the major factor in her rising interest in the young man. Unaffected men made the best mates for Veela and Harry had been the first she'd met near her age. The boys at Beauxbatons were hopeless, all drooling morons. The boys at Hogwarts were no different.

Unfortunately, Harry was two and a half years younger than her. Such a gap at their age was near insurmountable. Fleur was a little disappointed with that. She never had a probably securing herself a date, but more than one date was a rarity indeed. Someone unaffected by her aura would be perfect. The age gap put him in a no-go zone.

Then there was the fact that there was a Dark Lord out for his blood.

Still, she had befriended him the summer prior while staying at her fiancées house. Bill Weasley was the second she'd met near her age to be unaffected by her aura. They'd dated for almost a year while they worked at Gringotts before he'd asked her to marry him. She had said yes, swept up in the moment, certain of her choice. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that now.

This was the second major topic that plagued Fleur's mind – had she made the right decision in saying yes. Was she ready to marry someone, marry Bill, when she'd made comments like '…_eef you were a few years older 'Arry, I might 'ave been marrying you instead_'to someone else and meant every word of it?

Fleur sighed and rolled over. She would meet Bill in the morning and travel to Hogwarts. What did Harry Potter want with her? Whatever it was, Fleur was determined to help him to the best of her abilities. At the very least she owed him that much from when he saved her sister, whether the danger was real or not. But a larger part of her wanted to help him regardless of what he'd done for Gabrielle.

Her thoughts conflicted long into the night. Just like every other night in the last few weeks.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Saturday dawned. Harry watched it from his dorm, too restless to sleep any longer.

Today was the day Fleur Delacour was arriving, along with Bill. Tonks, too, if she wasn't still – likely – busy with Ministry or Order work. Harry hoped that Fleur would side with him over the Order. He didn't understand how he would need them. He just did. His gut feeling was good enough.

Bill was another matter. He'd barely spoken to the 'cool' brother of Ron and Ginny and didn't see where he could need him, except to maybe set up or take down protections around a hideout.

Breakfast was an unusually solemn affair for Harry and Hermione. For some odd reason they had only shared a few brief conversations since Harry saw her and Ron down in the Hogsmeade tunnel on the Marauder's Map. There was suddenly a wall between them that her relationship with Ron had created.

Was it fear of drifting apart because of her relationship with Ron that built that wall? Was it a realization that they would never have the same closeness as before when there was a boyfriend in the mix?

Harry looked to Hermione briefly and pondered why he didn't feel more concerned over this. Last year he would've given anything to keep their friendship intact. Hermione had stuck with him since that very first Halloween, even when that stupid Firebolt incident, where he'd been angry at her for going behind his back, caused them to drift apart.

So what was different? What in the name of God was different about this time? Did he somehow know that this would sort itself out or was there something else out there influencing him?

He shook his head. _That's absurd. Why would someone want Hermione and me __to__ drift apart?_

Hermione noticed Harry's attentions and looked his way, offering him a weak smile before returning to her meal.

She was constantly preoccupied by her dreams, on top of her homework, regular additional study, and the DA. The dreams were becoming more and more common, almost every night now, and it was the same thing over and over.

Mrs. Weasley was speaking to her about something, Ron, she thought, at the Burrow early that summer, before Harry had arrived. But details of the conversation, or why she was dreaming it every other night continued to elude her.

Harry ate slowly, his mind elsewhere. He didn't know when Fleur and Bill were to arrive, having not specified in any communication.

Something caught Harry's eye and he turned to see Ginny walking past, her red hair looking surprisingly vibrant this morning. She practically ignored and he didn't interrupt her. Her appearance had brought something else to mind.

Neither Ron nor Ginny knew about the DA yet. Harry was at a loss to why he hadn't gotten around to it. _They were his friends, right?_

The memories of Ron upset after the attack on Hogwarts Express and Ginny yelling at Padma and himself passed through his mind.

_Are they truly friends if that was the attitude Ron has when an attack happens? Are they truly friends if that's the attitude Ginny has towards me having new friends?_

Concentrating on Ron, Harry pushed whatever misgivings he had between himself and the redhead aside and opened his mouth, preparing to speak.

Harry's original question was then answered just after he finished that thought. He heard _a lot_ of gasps in the Great Hall and looked up to see what the commotion was.

It was Fleur, of course.

She would have been beautiful even if she wasn't a Veela. The addition of Veela blood just made what she already had that much more obvious to everyone else.

Harry was not alone in admiring her. He could appreciate her looks more than he had when they first met since there was no tournament looming down on him, and the fact that he was much further along through puberty.

Fleur was statuesque in every sense of the word. Her long silvery-blonde hair, deep blue eyes and white teeth only added to her blemish free, perfectly pale skin.

Throughout the hall, there was clear lust in many boys' eyes, including many of the Slytherins, to Harry's disgust. Nobody except Harry seemed to notice that Bill was walking a few steps behind her, taking in the hall again. After all, it had been over a year since was last year. One never really got over their amazement at the Great Hall and its remarkable ceiling.

Fleur crossed the hall after spotting Harry, who waved hesitantly, causing him to receive many glares from those that bothered to take their eyes off of her for a second.

"Is zis seat taken?" asked Fleur, gesturing to the open spot beside Harry, smiling, with only a slight trace of her original French accent.

"Not at all."

Fleur, graceful as always, took her seat beside him. Harry was suddenly a lot calmer than he had been this morning. She had come, she'd hear him out and she'd agree to help him when he would require it.

On the other side of Harry, Hermione waved her hello. Ron gaped as he always did, magnificently failing to get food anywhere near his mouth, instead covering pretty much everywhere else on his face. Ginny indiscreetly glared at her, like many of the females, though Harry suspected hers was for a different reason than everyone else's.

"Had breakfast yet?" asked Harry, offering some of the English food, all thoughts of Ron and speaking to him of the DA vanished from his mind. "I know you're not fond of it but it's a while before lunch and there's a fair bit we have to talk about."

Fleur smiled back as Bill joined them at the table. "Oui."

Harry reached out to shake Bill's hand, having to put his knife down to free his right hand to do so. "Thanks for coming, Bill."

"No worries, Harry," he responded. "I know it must be important to have called us in."

Harry didn't bother correcting him. "It is. That is, something we can't talk about with everyone listening in." Harry whispered to the two graduates. Indeed, everyone was listening in. Few had taken their eyes off the quarter Veela since she had arrived, meals mostly forgotten.

The three of them made small talk until Harry and Hermione were done eating.

"Do you want a tour or should we get straight into it?" Harry asked once they were out of earshot. "Not much has changed since you two where here last."

"We 'ave ze full weekend a'ead of us," Fleur replied. "We 'ave time to enjoy ourselves."

Harry took that as a 'yes' for the tour.

An hour and a half later, after covering much of the school, showing Fleur places she hadn't seen before and encountering countless drooling males in the process, Harry led Bill, Fleur and Hermione to the Room of Requirement.

"Doesn't that get annoying?" Harry asked after passing yet another group of students who were incapacitated at the sight of Fleur.

"Oui. It is unfortunate zat so many are affected by ze Veela charms. It makes finding a man difficult for a quarter-Veela. Or any Veela in general."

Harry and Hermione questioned further and learnt a lot more about the Veela nature. Harry had never thought that Veela were merely sexual objects. There was no reason to generalize a hybrid like that. Many humans could also be considered sexual objects, but were humans labeled as sexual objects?

After seeing how the Ministry treated werewolves, he wasn't surprised to hear of the prejudice against Veela.

Soon enough, Harry was walking back and forth thinking of what he wanted.

_A place to talk without being overheard. A place to talk without being overheard._

The door appeared, much to the surprise of the two graduates.

"I've heard about this room!" Bill exclaimed as the foursome entered. "Fred and George told me about it." He looked about the room, which had transformed itself into a comfortable sitting room. "This where you held that illegal Defense group last year isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"In zis room?" Fleur asked skeptically. "It isn't very suitable."

"The room reacts to whatever need, you require from it." Hermione explained. "Harry wanted a quiet place to talk, judging by the furnishings," she gestured to the sitting room furniture. "The actual room we used was triple this size, without the furniture, so there was room for nearly thirty students to practice magic."

"Amazing." Bill said. Harry and Hermione took seats on one couch, Fleur and Bill on the couch opposite. "Okay, Harry, let's get this out of the way so we can enjoy the rest of the weekend."

"Okay." Harry replied, taking a moment to sort himself out. He hadn't really made a plan of what to say, hoping what came up on the spot would suffice.

In the end, he repeated much of what he said to the current DA members not long ago. Fleur listened patiently. Bill not as much, and Fleur stopped him from speaking on several occasions.

Harry did, however, add new things. He spoke of how there were five different sides in this war: Voldemort & Death Eaters, Ministry of Magic, and the Order of the Phoenix were the main three. Then, there was your own side – people working in one of the three main groups seeking their own ends.

Hermione explained how the Order and Ministry were mostly reactionary groups. Both of them reacted to attacks by Voldemort. While there were Orders members out there attempting to locate Death Eater hideouts, there were no captured Death Eaters mentioned in the news.

After Harry's and her own experiences over the past few years, Hermione had lost a fair bit of faith in the Ministry.

Harry had then, rather bluntly, stated that six Hogwarts students had done more in one night than the Ministry and Order combined did the three months since the attack.

Bill barely managed to contain his protest, being an Order member himself. Fleur was more understanding, her eyes sparkling.

"I've been a part of this war since I was eleven, Bill," Harry said, acknowledging the man's silent protests. "The Philosopher's Stone was Voldemort's first push to regain his body and would've succeeded if it weren't for Ron, Hermione and me."

Harry was about to repeat his adventures to emphasize his involvement and the inevitability of him meeting Voldemort again when Fleur interrupted him.

"I'm wiz you, 'Arry. You're ze fifth party in ze war, non? I agree wiz you. Ze Order ees not doing enough in ze war." This drew a glare from Bill which Fleur adamantly ignored. "You are requesting somezing of moi, non?"

"I might need your help in the future." Harry said. "I'm not sure what it may be but I'd like to have someone currently outside Hogwarts who'd be willing to help."

"I can agree wiz zat."

Harry smiled at her and looked at Hermione. She didn't look back. She was occupied, studying and reevaluating her opinion of Fleur. She had underestimated her too.

"Hang on a moment." Bill cut in, his tone displeased. "Can I have a word with my fiancée?" Without waiting for a response, Bill got up and pulled Fleur with him. Harry raised an eyebrow at the treatment while Bill cast a Silencing Charm to keep their conversation private.

"Care to reevaluate your opinion on Fleur?" asked Harry teasingly, momentarily forgetting their suddenly drop in communication. "You can't say she's some brainless bimbo now. You heard her. She's intelligent."

Hermione didn't respond. She did that when she knew she was wrong.

A few more minutes passed and Bill and Fleur's debate became more animated.

"What do you suppose they're arguing about?" Harry wondered. "Debating over whether to have their loyalties with us or the Order shouldn't turn out like that."

"I think Bill is an Order follower, through and through," Hermione replied curtly. "He probably doesn't approve of Fleur suddenly declaring allegiance to you. I'm surprised by her readiness to do so. Bill must be too."

"An Order follower through and through?"

"The Weasley's are very loyal to Dumbledore." Hermione explained. "Haven't you noticed how they never argue or complain about his orders? Bill's probably no different and, like I said, doesn't like his fiancée batting for a different team, even if they have the same goal."

"B-but that's outrageous!" Harry exclaimed. "It's her choice! I don't know much about relationships and marriage but I know that doesn't give the husband the right to make decisions for the wife."

"'Ah!" came Fleur's voice, stopping Harry before he could continue his rant. "You 'ear zat Bill?" Bill glared at a clueless Harry. Apparently they had stopped their debate in time to hear his response. "I am free to make my own choice. I 'ave made eet."

Bill stared between Harry and Fleur for a long, uncomfortable period of time. Finally, he sighed. "I'm sorry, but I am with the Order."

"That's quite alright, Bill." Harry told him. He admitted to himself he was a little disappointed that someone had finally declined but pushed it aside. It was inconsequential. "I must ask you to take an oath so you can't voluntarily or involuntarily tell someone about what happened here." When Bill didn't make any motions to make an oath, Harry added, "Surely you understand the need for secrecy, being in the Order. I can't have everyone knowing that I'm trying to fight back."

Bill stared down Harry a little longer, and then sighed. "I swear on my magic that what happens and has happened in the room while I'm present will not be revealed. Sorry, Harry." 

"There's no need for apologies or excuses," Harry replied. "I didn't expect anything from you. However, I must ask you to leave."

Bill didn't move, again. He glanced towards Fleur and then back at Harry. Harry was beginning to find a stubbornness streak underneath the carefree, cool attitude that Bill projected.

"Go, Bill," said Fleur. "You 'aven't spent much time 'ere in quite a while. I'll see you at dinner." Bill focused on Fleur. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew what was going on in his mind as they watched the standoff.

He finally accepted the dismissal and left the room, leaving an awkward silence.

"This… this isn't going to cause trouble between you two is it?" Harry asked. That was the last thing he'd intended.

"Never you mind, 'Arry," Fleur answered smiling. "He 'as to accept it. 'Arry, you saved my sister's life. I do not forget. I will be wiz you if you want me."

Harry's face broke into a smile. "Thank you, Fleur." Suddenly the whole mood lightened. "Like I said, I figured I'd need your help in the future. I had a feeling that I should ask you before too long, so I did."

"Eet is fine. You can contact me if you require my assistance. 'Owever, you must tell me what iz between you two."

"Between us?" Harry repeated. He looked at Hermione, who didn't look his way.

"Oui. You aren't interacting like normal." Fleur explained. "What 'as 'appened?"

"Nothing," Harry and Hermione replied at the same time. They caught each others eye, but Hermione looked away immediately.

Fleur sighed softly. "Whatever it is, is it worz losing your friendship over? Friends are precious. I 'ave very few because of ze Veela in me." She admitted. "You 'ave it much easier. Don't waste your chance."

There was a short, solemn silence.

"Come now," Fleur stood up, suddenly much more lively. "Show me 'ow zis room works and what you are up to in 'ere."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Fleur's acceptance kept Harry afloat for the remainder of the day. He couldn't help feeling surprised that she'd so readily agreed. Hermione begged leave to finish her homework, though Harry suspected it was to avoid another line of questioning. Harry spent time with Fleur, explaining what the purpose of his newer version of the DA was. She had listened intently, offering her own opinion here and there.

Before long, the two of them had moved on to less serious or important topics. The frostiness that had once surrounded the French woman had almost evaporated; only her bluntness remained, causing a few moments where Harry was left speechless. Without realizing it, dinner time soon approached. Harry and Fleur had become friends. He wished he'd not let himself get pressured by Hermione and Ginny into not speaking with her.

Conformity was a bitch.

Just before the two of them left the Room for dinner, Harry had apologized for treating her the way he had, and not stopping others from doing the same. Fleur had taken the apology amicably, saying that she was used to it and he was one of the few that had ever gotten to know who she was and apologize for their treatment. Fleur had then taken an oath voluntarily. Harry protested that this would mean that she couldn't talk about what they would be up to with Bill now, fearing that that would create more of a rift between them.

"Bill 'as chosen to side wiz ze Order, and I 'ave chosen to side wiz you. We 'ave secrets already. 'E will 'ave to accept zis one too."

Dinner was uncomfortable with the silence between Bill and Fleur. Despite Fleur's reassurances, Harry felt he had definitely driven a wedge between the soon to be married couple.

Hermione had sat on the opposite side of Ron from Harry, spending half of dinner chastising Ron for staring stupidly at Fleur. Harry wondered just where the three of the stood with each other now. Wasn't it alone three weeks ago they were friends, laughing at the Burrow together? Wasn't it only a fortnight since Harry and Hermione had solidified their friendship on their return to Hogwarts?

Harry was worried about the direction their friendship was going. The wall between himself and Hermione was still there, though it had been reduced slightly by their brief reconnection in the Room of Requirement.

He watched Hermione and Ron talk uneasily, uncertain. Would they start doting on each other soon, making it embarrassing to be near them? Would they do as Padma thought and drift apart from him, choosing to spend more alone time together?

Hermione still helped him, gave him her notes and had put great effort into charming the rings with the Protean Charm and something else very complex that made the rings unreadable to anyone besides the eleven Hogwarts members.

Still, their everyday conversations were strained.

It was later that night when Harry became more concerned about the entire matter.

He was in Gryffindor Tower, reading through some of Hermione's notes for Herbology while said girl and Ron were seated across the room, talking softly. The two of them were working on his homework, Hermione walking Ron through the specifics of the _Agumanti_ Charm for Charms again to make sure he had it down.

Harry reached a passage he didn't quite understand. While he was more focused than he used to be, some of Hermione's vocabulary still managed to fly straight over his head.

He stood, crossed the room and was about to ask Hermione for some clarification on the passage when he sensed someone staring at him. Turning to find the person, Harry found Ginny staring at him intently, a mixture of a scowl and a predator like look on her face.

Unnerved, Harry was about to look away when Parvati walked past him and stopped in front of Ginny. The redhead was as surprised by Parvati's approach as Harry was and her gaze was directed at her for the moment. Harry saw Ginny's eyes widen and glance back at him for a moment, and then she pushed out a chair opposite her with her foot, offering it to Parvati.

Confused by the entire situation, Harry went back to his task of asking Hermione about her Herbology notes.

"Hermione," Harry said quietly, feeling very much like a third wheel now that the two seated in front of him were dating. Here he was on the outside, wanting their attention and, as the next thirty seconds proved, to no avail.

"Hermione," Harry repeated, louder this time. "Ron, can I have a quick word."

"What?" Ron said sharply, turning away from Hermione and his work to glare at Harry. Harry was taken aback by the sudden hostility. It wasn't like Ron had never interrupted a conversation between himself and Hermione.

"I need to ask Hermione something," Harry replied after a moment, facing Hermione. She looked to him and grabbed the piece of parchment in his hand quickly. For the second time in a minute he was taken aback.

"What's the problem?" she asked briskly.

"Ah," Harry said, fumbling for the words. "Right. This paragraph here, what are Gibberellins?" he asked, pointing at the top of the page.

"Gibberellins are a series of hormones that promote stem elongation in plants." Hermione answered immediately. "It should be already written down here…" she trailed off and read three quarters of the page before she came to the more detailed explanation. She pointed it out to Harry, who took the page back and examined it again.

He looked up; about to thank Hermione only to find her and Ron already back at work.

_What's with that?_ Harry asked himself. _Are they annoyed I interrupted them?_

Harry turned back, his eyes passing over Ginny and Parvati seated together, talking rather animatedly, and walked across the common room to his lone seat at the table. He sat down and began reading the rest of the parchment, understanding it all this time.

When he finished he put the parchment down on the table and looked around at the two groups that his mind was focusing on. Parvati suddenly stood, Ginny giving her a smile, and then left the room, not looking at Harry as she passed for a second time. Dean came down from their dorm a moment later and sat in the previously occupied chair. Ginny sent Harry the occasional glance, unnerving Harry further.

Hermione and Ron were still deep in conversation, surprisingly not arguing one iota. Harry searched within himself to find out what he truly felt about their sudden brush off of him and, to his shock, found only a small trace of hurt.

Just what was going on here?


	6. This Is No Rehearsal

A/N: Thanks to chem. prof for his amazing beta work. This would be far less legible if it weren't for him.

_**Chapter 6: This Is No Rehearsal**_

Harry restlessly paced the width of the Room of Requirement. The other DA members were due in a few minutes for their first meeting.

However, the unusual interactions the previous night were on his mind. Why had Hermione and Ron brushed him off like that? Were they annoyed at him for interrupting? And what was with their attitude? Ron acted if he was angry at something, and Hermione was completely focused on their work together and barely paid Harry enough attention to give him an answer.

His two friends aside, there was also Ginny and Parvati. Since when had they ever spoken? And what was with Ginny constantly staring at him oddly? Unbelievably, a part of Harry enjoyed her attentions.

Harry tried to clear his thoughts and switched his focus back onto the DA.

The dominant emotion Harry felt was nervousness. While all ten, besides himself and Hermione, had agreed to join, they didn't truly understand what they were getting themselves into. They wouldn't for awhile yet, either. He didn't trust everyone, and barely even knew some. That would have to change first, before any thoughts of the prophecy.

What kind of reaction would that bombshell earn? Fear? Loyalty? Hatred? Friendship? There could be any number of reactions.

Again, Harry pushed those thoughts aside for another day for they were getting him nowhere. It would at least a couple months before he would speak the prophecy to the group. He could get worked up about it then.

The first to arrive was Fleur, whom had been invited the previous evening to meet the remainder of the group. There was something else he wanted her for, too.

"Fleur, I need a favor."

The French woman looked as beautiful as ever. A night away from home did nothing at all to diminish the living, breathing near-perfection she was. She smiled at him.

"Figured out somezing I could do for you, 'Arry?"

"Yes. I need a pensieve."

A perfect eyebrow rose. "A pensieve, 'Arry? Zey are rare and expensive." She folded her arms and contemplated. "You will need one made. 'Ave you access to zat kind of money?"

"The last time I visited my vault was over two years ago." Harry said, thinking back over his infrequent trips to Gringotts. "I don't have any idea how much money I have."

"I can 'elp you there."

It took Harry several moments to make the connection. "You work at Gringotts."

"Oui." Fleur paused, brushing several strands of hair out of her face as it scrunched up a little in concentration. "I remember you mentioning you grew up with your Muggle relatives, oui?" Harry nodded. "Bill 'as explained ze 'istory of many British families during my tenure at Gringotts. Ze Potter family was wealthy before zeir passing. You are not aware of zis, I assume?"

Harry faced away from her. "I know next to nothing about my family and nothing at all about anything money related. I have a vault that I've used for my education and nothing else."

"Zere would be a larger vault for the Potters." Fleur said confidently. "I can search ze records for yours with your permission. 'Ave you read your parents' will?"

"Their will?"

"A will is a legal document of a person's wishes to zere property after death," Fleur replied, after a moment's surprise that Harry didn't know the term. "Simply, it dictates what 'appens to one's property when zey pass on. Your parents must 'ave set up a vault just for your schooling so you would not accidentally spend it all."

"No, I haven't even heard of this before." Harry said slowly. "Shouldn't I have been told about all this when I came to Hogwarts?"

"I can arrange for you to visit Gringotts to go over everything with you." Fleur suggested with a shrug. "Eet will take half a day of your time."

"If Dumbledore let's me." Harry said, and then grimaced. Chances were slim on that, given how he wasn't allowed to Diagon Alley without a large entourage.

Furthermore, why hadn't Dumbledore mentioned anything about his parents will before? Given he was Muggle-raised, he or McGonagall should've told him about this.

The door to the room opened to admit the three Hufflepuffs and three Ravenclaws.

"Thanks, Fleur." Harry said quickly. "Arrange it. I'd like to know what was in my will and how much money I actually have."

Fleur smiled at him again, this time a little hesitantly – something on her mind. She then turned and secured herself a seat on one of the dozen chairs in the room had created.

A few minutes passed and the room filled as Hermione, Neville, Katie and Daphne arrived. Harry locked the door and cast an Imperturbable Charm to ensure their privacy. There wouldn't be a repeat of last year if he could help it.

All conversation ceased as Harry maneuvered himself to stand in front of them the group. There was the odd look in Fleur's direction, but aside from that everyone's attention was focused on Harry.

"For those of you who haven't met her personally, this is Fleur Delacour." Harry gestured towards said woman sitting cross-legged on her chair. Fleur smiled at each of them and they returned it, except for Daphne's, which failed to hide her aversion, perhaps intentionally so. Neville and Ernie found themselves staring all too easily.

"I've already spoken to you about some of the reasons I brought this group together." Harry began. Neville managed to wrench his attention make to Harry. Ernie received a not-so-light hit from Hannah when he continued to stare. Harry ignored them. "We're going to fight back. To do that we need to be better, stronger. In that respect, this won't be too different from last year – we'll learn magic. But we'll also learn to duel, duel as in real life battles – life or death – and not what Lockhart tried to teach us."

Harry searched the faces of the eleven people before him. "Let me make this perfectly clear: A real fight will have our opponents trying to kill us. We're going to need to take them out before they take us out, even if it means kill or be killed."

Several faces paled. A few people swallowed. Some even wore determined expressions.

"This changes nothing."

The entire groups' attention switched to Padma.

"To me, at least, this changes nothing." Padma said. She wore a pained expression. "We're essentially at war. If we want to help, want to do something worthwhile, our lives will be in peril. I got that from the start." She looked around at everyone – focusing longer on Daphne, Ernie and Katie in that order. "You'd be naïve to think otherwise."

An odd silence ensued. Harry had the distinct impression Padma was not-so-subtlety conveying the message to particular people.

"Right then," said Neville, bringing the attention of the group to him. "If anyone didn't understand what they were getting into, they're free to leave, as Harry said several times already. I think we all get that. So, err… continue, Harry?"

Harry nodded thanks to Neville and addressed the group again.

"There's more you all need to know before we can truly get started on making a difference. For now, we can simply practice and practice. However, for the future, we need to learn Occlumency. Once our minds are protected, I can tell you everything. And with time, I hope to trust you all so the oaths aren't needed – they feel like I'm forcing you to do something."

Harry turned and started pacing. "The six of us were lucky at the Department of Mysteries. We managed to improvise our way through the battle until backup arrived, though we were undoubtedly losing. We stunned or tied up the Death Eaters." Harry's expression hardened. "That isn't going to cut it anymore. Stunning and constricting them isn't enough. It takes one or two spells to bring them back into the fight. We need to render our opponents unable to fight, one way or another."

"This year, we're going to learn strategy as well. We're going to learn to fight properly, and to use our surroundings to help, fight like wizards and witches with decades of practice do." Harry faced the group again. "How about I demonstrate what I mean by using the surrounding environment to help?"

There were half a dozen yeses, and a few nods. Unsurprisingly, Daphne remained stoic. Harry ignored her.

"All right, Hermione, care to be my demonstrative partner?"

Hermione started a little at her name being called. She honestly looked worried for a moment, knowing that Harry had been practicing constantly since term started, inside and outside of class. Harry would've outclassed her in a duel last year through natural instincts. She'd felt some trepidation going up against Harry now. Still, she agreed.

"Everyone stand." Harry ordered. "I'm going to change the room to suit our purposes better."

He closed his eyes and thought. _I need an outside environment to demonstrate using the environment to our advantage and a place to keep people safe from spell fire._

Several seconds passed and Harry opened his eyes. The Room of Requirement had morphed into a forest clearing, approximately one hundred meters long and fifty meters wide, the surroundings littered with dense vegetation strongly resembling the Forbidden Forest. There was short grass throughout most of the clearing. Branches, twigs, rocks and other debris littered the ground.

The most curious feature in the new surroundings was the presence of walls around the clearing. The Room of Requirement had its limitations – Expansion Charms could only expand so much, and it appeared the same applied here.

The group scattered slowly, walking around the authentic clearing with expressions ranging from amazement to mild interest. Harry was the first to notice a shimmer in the air as light – from an unknown source – struck it at the right angle.

"Everyone watch from in here." Harry called out and waved them over. "This'll keep you safe from spells gone astray."

A few minutes later Harry and Hermione were staring each other down across the clearing, separated by two dozen meters of grass and debris. The remaining ten occupants in the room stood within what was a 'room' of sorts, completely out of harms way.

Hermione wore a guarded expression, trying to calm and focus her mind. However, her thoughts were turbulent. The night before, she had brushed Harry off without even realizing her actions until a couple hours later, while she was struggling to sleep. What in the world had possessed her to do that?

Ron had asked her to help with the Aguamenti Charm. Naturally, she had complied. Two hours passed without her realizing it, and she only had vague recollections of what had transpired. The one thing that stood out was her inexplicable brush off of Harry.

"We begin when Susan blows her whistle." Harry called out, startling Hermione, and confusing Susan, for she had no whistle on her. No sooner than she had thought that, a whistle appeared in her hand.

Surprised, Susan examined the whistle for several seconds. Then, she brought the instrument to her lips and blew.

Distracted and unprepared, Hermione cast half a dozen spells at random. Harry, calmly, took a few steps to the side and dodged them completely. He then transfigured a shield out of twigs and blocked the following barrage of spells, the last one cracking it.

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry called out, dropping the remains of his shattered shield. "This isn't a rehearsal. Pretend it's real. I'm trying to hurt you. Use what's around you to your advantage."

Harry followed his mini-lecture with a wide-area Banishment Charm. An array of natural debris blew in Hermione's general direction. Harry used the attack as cover to move in.

Hermione raised a shield and Harry saw at least half a dozen impacts from his spell. She dissolved her shield and sent a blast of wind his way, partially blinding him.

Cursing, he rolled to the side, out of the line of fire, and cast a charm to clear his vision. His eyes stung as the spell took affect, just in time to erect a shield to block a barrage of stunning spells.

Harry noted Hermione had opened casting her spells aloud. She hadn't had the time to practice her wordless spellcasting like he'd had. Her spells were significantly weaker as a consequence. She'd never been a pushover in her previous years and Harry wasn't expecting her to be now. Then again, she didn't appear entirely focused on anything of late while he was. Still, holding back would get himself beaten. That would be embarrassing given he was supposed to be the leader here.

"Here we go, Hermione."

He saw Hermione pause, uncertain of his next move. Grinning, Harry performed the easiest incarnation McGonagall and Flitwick had taught him for utilizing transfiguration and charms in battle.

A flick of the wand brought a dozen sticks off the ground. A second flick made them heavier. The third sent them soaring in Hermione's general direction. Not giving her any room to maneuver, he cast a set of stunning spells either side of her.

A hastily erected shield managed to deflect all but one of the projectiles. The last flew past the shield, missing by inches. It smashed into a tree behind her with a crack, leaving a large indent.

"This is what I mean." Harry said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Everything around me can be used as a weapon. If you've got a table, you can use it as a shield, or sent it for your opponent to worry about. If you can, transfigure something into an animal or an object advantageous for you. Don't rely on the same old spells we used to rely on."

Harry and Hermione stood roughly fifteen meters apart. Both were panting slightly

"You ready to go again?" asked Harry. He was concerned. She wasn't acting herself lately.

"Fine." Hermione replied a little curtly. There was, in fact, plenty on her mind, but she wasn't about to admit defeat yet.

In addition to her about her actions the previous night, Hermione still wasn't sleeping properly. She'd dreamt the same dream again and again, raising the same questions, questions she didn't have the answers for, and even doubts about Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione had concluded that her dream was a memory, one that she'd forgotten. But something so recent implied that she hadn't simply forgotten. She'd been forced to.

What was most important right now was: what happened in that conversation? Once that was answered the secondary questions could follow. Was her memory erased? Did her and Mrs. Weasley's conversation about Ron be linked to her conflicting feelings towards him? Was Mrs. Weasley involved in her memory loss?

Memory Charms didn't completely erase a memory. Instead, they removed the links to the memory – the memory was still there, but the mind couldn't connect to it.

Did this mean that someone – Mrs. Weasley, maybe – cast a Memory Charm on her, done a poor job and now it was wearing off? Could she really do something that? Would she? Or was she completely off track?

Then there was Harry. Why was there this wall of sorts between them? Was it because of her relationship with Ron?

This situation had left Hermione pondering which of the two males in her life meant more to her. Was it Harry and his friendship or was it Ron and their relationship? Any other time she would have said Harry and his friendship without hesitation.

But now… her thoughts more often than not drifted to Ron when she wasn't focused on her work.

In the end, Hermione returned to the same conclusions as always. She didn't have enough pieces of the puzzle to honestly answer any of her questions.

"Then let's go."

Harry waved his wand several times and he had another set of projectiles to fire. Hermione transfigured herself her own shield out of rock, slouching forward and panting with the effort – wood to rock transfiguration wasn't an easy task, especially with inexperience against her.

Undeterred, Harry sent the projectiles into the rock shield. A loud crunch emanated within the room as what appeared to be extra dense ball bearings drove into the rock shield, nearly breaking it.

Hermione had jumped at the sound, and taken several steps backwards involuntarily. While her reflexes were nowhere near that of Harry's, he must've believed her shield strong enough to withstand such an assault.

Looking at her battered shield and back to Harry, she realized that Harry could've finished her off then and there had he wanted to. He wasn't playing around.

Whatever was going on between them was put on hold. Her pride, even though she knew she was outmatched, wouldn't allow her to go down so easily a second time.

Hermione surveyed her surroundings. Harry had closed the distance to roughly fifteen meters. There were a lot of twigs and branches scattered along the ground around her, mixed in with rocks here and there. Could she transfigure them like Harry had or charm them in some manner?

Then she noticed something that could work to her advantage. There was a large branch behind Harry.

"_Accio!_"

The branch lifted off from the ground, but Harry had already moved out of the way. He quickly cast a Reductor Curse that blew the branch to pieces. Most of them fell to the ground but there were many that Harry sent it flying at her, causing Hermione to drop to the ground again to avoid being cut by the remains.

Hermione cast a shield to block the first two stunning and disarming spells. She dodged a third spell and responded with by transfiguring a large branch into a ten meter long wall. It was flimsy, but it'd do. She sent away with a banishment spell, followed by her own onslaught of stunning and disarming spells. Harry blasted her flimsy wall of wood apart and sent his own disarming spell, before dropping to the ground, dodging Hermione's spells by millimeters.

On it went. Over the next ten minutes Harry showcased a range – limited, though it may be – of uses for debris around him. Given a mere fortnight of term had passed, he'd yet to practice transfiguration on a greater scale or work to develop his own strategies.

In the end, Hermione lost four times over in the fourteen minutes the battle lasted. The observers were aware and shared mixed feelings about that, ranging from awe at Harry's ability after a fortnights work, leading to the belief that Harry really could make a difference if this was what he was capable of already, to anger over their previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers for not teaching them properly.

"I could do that." Ernie scoffed quietly after witnessing Harry surround Hermione in a semi-circle of fire from the 'Incendio' spell with her back against a tree.

Simultaneously, Susan and Hannah whacked their fellow Hufflepuff over the head while keeping their eye on the duel. Hermione had just frozen the semi-circle of fire and was now firing a volley of offensive spells which Harry dodged or blocked with relative ease.

"Ouch." Ernie rubbed at his head. "What was that for? It's not like what he's doing is that difficult."

"Quit trying to show off." Hannah said dryly. "She's not going to be interested in _you_."

Ernie reddened slightly. He was interrupted from retaliating when Padma shook her head exasperatedly and spoke.

"Think about it, Ernie. What's the first spells that come to mind when you think about a duel? For almost all of us, the first spells we think of are stunning and disarming spells, the protego shield, Body-Binds and the Reductor Curse." Padma raised an eyebrow and looked away from the battle to Ernie. "Can you honestly say that your first impulse would be to perform magic like Harry is doing now?"

Harry continued to shield and dodge Hermione's rapid, desperate offence. It took several long seconds but he exploited a gap and pushed Hermione back on the defensive.

Ernie wisely didn't respond. Few were getting along with him presently. His occasional arrogance and pomposity were deterrents to the remainder of the group. Susan and Hannah only continued to put up with him because he was in their year.

"Has anyone any idea what's wrong with those two?" asked Katie. Fleur, who had remained silent and watched the duel in interest, switched her focus to the conversation around her.

"What do you mean?" asked Susan pointedly, facing her.

"Haven't you noticed?" Katie looked confused. "Harry and Hermione aren't… well, I'm not sure how to put it. They aren't as close as they were even a week ago."

The duel between Harry and Hermione suddenly became less interesting to several people. Daphne and Luna were the only two to not waver in their attentions on the duel.

"I haven't noticed anything about them," said Hannah thoughtfully. "But I have noticed someone missing. Where's Ron? He's been Harry's friend for five years, excluding that period in our fourth year. Why isn't he here?"

Neville shrugged as he became the centre of attention due to his living arrangements. "I don't know anymore than anyone else. Ron and Hermione are in a relationship, I think. That might be the reason for their… awkwardness."

Padma, who already knew that, remained quiet as a round of questions assaulted an increasingly flustered Neville. Harry took advantage of Hermione slipping on a patch of partially melted ice to gain victory for the third time in twelve minutes.

"I am surprised zat 'as gotten between zem," said Fleur. The group gave her their full attention, given this was the first time she'd spoken since she'd said hello. "'Ave you not watched zeir friendship grow for five years?" the French woman continued, unaffected by the increase in attention. "Zere is something more pulling zem apart. Zeir friendship, I 'ave seen it over ze summer and while I was 'ere, is profound. It will take more than Ronald and 'Ermione getting togezzer to destroy zat friendship."

Everyone absorbed that observation without comment, watching Harry and Hermione duel for the final time.

"You are right, Fleur,' said Luna in her serene voice. A deflected spell from Harry collided with a tree a few meters to the right of their protected 'room', startling a few. "Something more is bothering them. I don't believe they realize it yet." Then, completely seriously, she said, "It could be Wrackspurts."

Fleur stared at Luna. "I am not familiar wiz zis species."

Su, another who'd yet to speak, gave Fleur a small smile, a shake of the head and a pat on the shoulder. Her meaning managed to get through.

Padma kept an eye on Su as she interacted with the French woman. Su rarely spoke. In the five years they'd known each other, Su had relied on actions and facial expressions to get her message across.

When the two had first met in their first year, Padma had been as disturbed as anyone that the young Ravenclaw never spoke. It took until their second year before Su would even whisper to her.

"We should keep an eye on them." Padma said, returning her focus to the duel, now winding down, and the conversation at hand. "Anyone interfering with their friendship would be watching their progress. It would also be someone with something to gain from Harry and Hermione not being close."

"That doesn't reduce the list of suspects to a manageable amount." Ernie grumbled.

"There are dozens of girls willing to do anything to get Harry's attention." Susan added. Hannah nudged her with a knowing grin and Susan blushed. She glared at Hannah and sighed, adding, "Myself included."

"There are a dozen in Gryffindor alone." Katie said with certainty. At the curious expressions she received she added, "My Mother's a journalist. I learnt to observe these things. It's been a handy ability."

"A Gryffindor has the greatest opportunity," said Daphne in a tone expressing how little she cared. She brushed a stand of hair behind her ear, still watching the duel. She'd never say it but she was impressed with Harry's performance. "I'd look there first if I were you."

At that moment, Harry finished off Hermione for the fourth time and called the duel off. Hermione was sweating profusely after the unexpected work out. While Harry was sweating too, his breathing was evener.

Impressed, nine of the ten teenagers in the sealed off area left it immediately to congratulate Harry – well, most did. Only Ernie remained behind, grudgingly admitting to himself that Harry was a far superior duelist.

"That's essentially what I meant by using the environment to your advantage." Harry said after the praise dried up. "It's difficult, combining elements of Transfiguration, Charms and Defense at once. It'll take time to learn. Yet, can anyone honestly say it wouldn't be useful?"

Of course, nobody even considered denying it. Even Fleur, a Beauxbatons alumnus who'd also learnt through vastly different curricula than Hogwarts, was impressed with Harry's performance.

"Let's begin practicing then, shall we?"

Harry instructed the group to perform the same maneuver he had done repeatedly a week earlier. He would transfigure an object into something more destructive – whether sharper or denser – and then use it a shield or as a projectile. This was the style at its most basic and was a good starting point. It would take time, but once the basics were down, each wizard and witch would adapt to their own fighting style.

The eleven other members of the room spent the next two hours practicing. The transfiguration proved to be difficult for a few people – Neville had never been good at it, and he no longer took the class. However, everyone got it down within the two hours. For those that did finish, Harry had instructed them to incorporate their own ideas into making an attack damaging and quick.

Once two hours had passed, the group retired for a rest before dinner. All awkwardness between Padma, Hermione, Daphne and himself was forgotten in the thrill of the first successful meeting of the new DA. Harry couldn't withhold the proud feeling he had towards everyone.

There was plenty of work to do still. He knew it, they knew it, yet the future was beginning to truly look bright. They would accomplish this. That was something he was sure of.

One step at a time.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Fleur and Bill left straight after dinner. Fleur kissed him twice on the cheeks again, causing another potentially embarrassing scene, but he managed not to blush. Bill's farewell was curt at best.

Harry was bombarded with questions from all houses, curious about Fleur and why she was meeting with Harry. Some of the less desirables sent innumerable glares his way, some even making slanderous accusations about Harry and Fleur's personal lives. After an hour it was all Harry could do to prevent himself from cursing those people. Even the calmest people lost their tempers eventually.

The trio walked back from dinner together for the first time in days. Harry was about to open his mouth to mention the DA when he saw something that drove the thought from his mind.

Malfoy was walking ahead of them, in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Harry stopped almost instantly, eliciting a "Blimey," from Ron. Luckily, Malfoy hadn't heard him amidst the general hubbub in the corridors.

_What's he up to?_ Harry wondered. What could Malfoy want up near Gryffindor Tower? The strangest part, perhaps, was that he was alone – Crabbe and Goyle weren't around.

Without saying anything to Ron and Hermione, Harry started following Malfoy at a discreet distance. Ron and Hermione caught up quickly.

"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Hermione concernedly.

"Quiet." Harry demanded. He pointed at the figure he was following.

"Bloody hell, Harry, is that Malfoy? What's he doing up here?"

"That's what I want to know, Ron." Harry replied testily. "So quiet down and we can follow."

The trio followed Malfoy for a solid minute before Harry realized where they were going.

"Oh… no…" Harry whispered to himself.

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione again.

"What room is near here?"

Hermione looked around for a moment. Her head paused at a familiar statue. "Oh, we're near the Room of Requirement."

The oaths prevented any of the ten members, aside from Hermione and himself, from informing anyone else about the DA. He'd made sure of that with Hermione. Their wording was perfect. So why was Malfoy up here if not to find out about the DA?

"What's wrong with the git using the Room of Requirement?" whispered Ron. Harry gave him an annoyed look.

"What good could possibly come from Malfoy and a room that responds to your desires?"

"Oh, right." Ron replied sheepishly after a moment.

"There he goes." Hermione remarked as Malfoy turned the final corner before the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

"Let's go." Harry ordered.

Quickly, Harry and Hermione cast Silencing Charms on their feet, and then Ron's when he didn't follow suit immediately. They ran the length of the corridor and turned the corner in time to see Malfoy stop in front of the tapestry in front of the room. He swiveled around; making sure nobody was in sight. Harry and Hermione had to quickly retract their heads to avoid being caught. Ron was left without a spot to see.

"How do you do this again?" Malfoy's voice carried down the corridor in the silence. Harry and Hermione moved back so they could see around the corner. Harry had one hand on the wall and one by his side. He was still for a minute. "That's right," he mumbled to himself. Harry clenched his right fist around his wand, waiting, watching for the right moment. Malfoy walked back and forth three times before turning back to the wall where a door materialized.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry thought with every ounce of his being. The familiar red light shot down the corridor. Malfoy didn't notice until it was too late. The spell connected right on the head, knocking Malfoy to the ground, sliding several meters from the impact. Harry goggled at the sight. He hadn't expected such a strong spell, especially a silent one.

"Bloody brilliant shot!" Ron slapped him on the back hard and unexpectedly, causing Harry to cough.

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked, slightly worried.

"It's Malfoy," Harry replied, glaring at Hermione. There was no need to explain further. The three of them quickly crossed the remaining distance between them and the Room of Requirement.

"Harry!" Hermione warned. He had seen it too. The door was disappearing.

Every time Harry had accessed the door, he'd entered without delay. The door had been present for only thirty seconds at most but nobody had entered. The door must close if nobody entered within that time.

Too late to get inside, Harry arrived at the door. He glanced through what was left of the doorway and saw a cabinet with no real distinguishing features from his distance before the door closed and left Harry staring at a wall.

Harry swore. So close.

He turned around and leaned back against the wall.

_Just what are you up to, Malfoy? What's so important that you need the Room and oaths?_

"Harry," Hermione spoke softly. He met her gaze. It wasn't her usual bossy "I want to know what's going on" stare but one of concern and a little regret. She had let herself drift from Harry's side and missed something important. The rumors about Harry and Padma only made that clearer. Padma probably knew more about what was going on than she did. Whatever reservations they each held for the sudden change in their friendship, whoever or whatever the cause, it wasn't worth it.

"Not here." Harry replied. The three of them looked at Malfoy's stunned body. "It'd be safer elsewhere." But before that, Harry went to check Malfoy's arm for the Dark Mark. He paused while standing above the body of Malfoy, examining his unconscious face, wondering what he was up to, why he listened to Voldemort of all people. After a moment, Harry bent down and was a moment away from moving the robe aside when footsteps reached his ears.

"Someone's coming." Harry said. Hermione had heard the sound too and already was dragging Ron behind her in the opposite direction. Cursing his luck, Harry followed.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Right then, what just happened?" asked Ron eloquently. The trio found an empty classroom, cast the usual secrecy charms and took spots in the room. There wasn't a piece of furniture in the room at all.

"Malfoy is up to something," Harry replied, staring at the ceiling from his position leaning against the wall across from the door. Hermione was on his right, facing Ron on Harry's left. "I want to know what."

"What makes you say that?" Ron countered, staring at Harry who proceeded to remain staring at the ceiling.

"Like I said already, how can anything good come from Malfoy and that room?"

"Quit being vague, Harry," Hermione admonished him, though it lacked any bite. Harry could feel it in her voice. She was being left out of his life and hated it. For a moment he felt sorry for her.

He quickly pushed those feelings aside. She'd brushed him off, not the other way around. Still, he didn't feel the same about Hermione that he did a week previous. It was only getting worse as time passed, and when Ron and Hermione started dating. Was there a coincidence behind that?

"He's a Death Eater," Harry said, but was interrupted. Hermione sighed; Ron muttered 'not again.' "And _that_ is _exactly_ the reason I'm not going to tell you." He closed his eyes and sighed. He then opened them again and caught the gaze of both Ron and Hermione before resuming his intensive examination of the ceiling.

There was a side of Harry that was begging him to tell them off for not believing him. The evidence, though not as conclusive as looking at the Slytherin's left forearm, was more than enough for Harry. A second side of Harry told him to let them persevere with their disbelief and that eventually they'd figure it out for themselves. The first side was winning.

"Harry, mate," Ron interrupted Harry's thoughts. "Are you still on about that?"

"On about what, Ron?" Harry snapped, losing patience about the whole Malfoy-Death Eater argument. "That the son of a Death Eater is one too? That the Slytherin that has insulted and bullied us for five years has taken the next step and gone pro? Yeah, I'm still on that."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, closing the gap between her and Harry, laying a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and faced her.

"You're not any different, Hermione," Harry told her fiercely. "Any other year what we knew would be more than enough to, at minimum, suspect it. What about when we thought Malfoy the heir of Slytherin? All we had to go with was his boasting and knowledge that his family was Slytherin through and through."

"That was different-" Hermione started, taken aback by the harshness in Harry's tone.

"-How?" Harry asked, cutting across. "How is this different? We have people fearing Malfoy because of something on his left forearm, where Dark Marks are. We have Death Eaters hiding on the Express that somehow managed to stay hidden in a crowded train for at least an hour. We have his surprised reaction when I baited him before the Feast that night. What Hermione, what else do you need?"

"Oi, don't talk to her like that!" Ron bellowed from Harry's other side.

"I can fight my own battles, Ronald," Hermione responded sharply. A tinge of red appeared on his cheeks. A bad sign if Harry ever saw one.

"You seem to be doing a bang up job," Ron retorted quietly.

"Oh?" Hermione said in a falsely sweet voice. "What are you going to do? Tell Harry to 'leave off'," she used air quotes to emphasis Ron's phrasing. "So you and I can go off and snog?"

Ron flushed further and glanced at Harry, who was bored with the entire argument already.

"That's got nothing to do with this," Ron replied quietly. Hermione blushed.

"I didn't mean it that way…" she said equally quietly.

"Well that is your…" Ron began.

"Ronald …" Hermione said in a warning voice.

"…fault that we aren't…"

"Ronald …" Hermione said in a dangerous voice. Ron looked about to continue before Harry stepped in, not wanting to know what would happen if Ron finished his sentence.

"Enough!" he yelled out, the sound echoing in the empty room.

"Stay out this, Harry," Ron yelled back immediately. A flash of panic crossed his features as he realized what he had said and who to.

"You see why I can't tell you what's going on?" Harry said as slowly and calmly as he possibly could, eyes clenched shut, hands on his temples trying to will back the headache that was bound to come.

Ron looked about to persist with the argument but stopped at a look from Hermione.

Harry opened his eyes and looked between the two of them, sighing. "Until you sort out what's wrong in your relationship, get it out of your system or break up, you're not focused enough…you can't be a part of this."

It was an ultimatum and Harry felt terrible for it. He just couldn't stand it anymore. Arguments were all right if they were handled maturely, but Ron and Hermione were acting like immature school children and it was driving him insane. They couldn't afford to act like children anymore.

Ron seemed to have no idea what was going on lately. As far as Harry could tell, he was focused on Quidditch, Hermione and, to an extent, his school work. The rest of his time was spent procrastinating all else that needed to be done.

Hermione was either in denial about Malfoy or just plainly too distracted by Ron to care. It's easier to feel better about ignoring something when you pretend it isn't real.

Predictably, Harry's statement didn't go over well.

"What?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, barely audible even in the empty, amplified room.

"I've always been a part of this, why not now?" Ron said in a voice that annoyed Harry. It was the same voice he used when he complained about his lack of wealth. Harry looked at Ron, surprised and sickened at the tone of voice.

"Well Ronald, you haven't always been there," Hermione intervened. "Nor have I." she added more to herself than anyone. Again, Harry felt the emotion in her voice, the sincerity in it.

Was he making the right choice, by distancing them until they sorted themselves out? Was he pushing them away for other reasons? Harry had no claim to being right. All he knew was that they couldn't continue like this. If they did, whatever plans Malfoy or Voldemort had would be upon them before they were prepared. Could they risk that? No. Not when Harry was aware of it.

Ron didn't have a reply to that, clearly remembering many of his screw ups over the years. Hermione didn't elaborate on her own proclamation, nor did Harry add anything further. The three of them sat in silence. They had a lot to think about.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Snape was the one to find Malfoy stunned near the Room of Requirement. Consequently, Monday's extra lesson with Snape was particularly horrible. Snape discarded any 'plan' and just went in an all out duel. Harry was certain that Snape was increasingly venomous towards him because he was a… no, _the_ suspect. Although he was guilty, it was still irritating when the git had no evidence.

It was only the start of the third week of school, and therefore his training, and Harry was beginning to get fitter. Slowly, but surely, his stamina and overall fitness level were increasing. This, even only a slight increase in fitness, allowed Harry to dodge and shield most of Snape's attacks without too much problem, though it still left him exhausted by the end. He was hit twice when Snape went out of his way to play dirty, justifying himself by saying that the Death Eaters wouldn't fight cleanly, but Harry felt that he had improved since he'd started.

Harry took to examining the Marauder's Map every now and then, to check up on the movements of five of the six that made the oath in the dungeons. In the times he checked up on him for the next several days, Malfoy made no attempt to approach the Room of Requirement. Hopefully he had been scared off, at least for a while. If Harry couldn't find out what he was up to, stalling him was the second best result.

Ron and Hermione had kept their distance for the most part since Harry's ultimatum. When Harry did make contact, it was brief and even hostile coming from Ron.

On Monday night, Harry had run into Ron and Hermione on his way back from the library. He'd gone to search for a new book of Defense magic to read and was bringing back 'Duelists and their Dueling Specialties' for some reading. A number of these kinds of books were useless, telling one how to perform in official stage dueling, but this one had at least two chapters on real life dueling and appeared to be worth taking the time to read.

Ron had been patrolling with Hermione that night. Since he and Hermione had gotten together, Ron had shown far more enthusiasm towards the task than he ever had before.

_More time for them to snog…_ Harry thought darkly.

The three of them managed to meet by chance on the fourth floor as Harry was making his way back. Ron and Hermione had been silent and that was why Harry was surprised to walk into them.

"Oh, Ron, Hermione," Harry said, surprise in his voice.

"What do you want?" Ron said angrily. Harry blanched. Sure, he was expecting a few bitter feelings for what he'd said, but there was a point where one overreacted.

"Ron!" Hermione said, and began chastising him as they walked off, leaving Harry alone with his book under his arm, utterly confused. When Harry awoke the next morning, several of Hermione's older books that he had borrowed from her were strewn across the room, a dozen or so pages ripped from each of them. Casting a silent '_Reparo_', Harry fixed them as best he could and sat, wondering why someone, presumably Ron, taken their anger out on Hermione's book.

The next day Harry was early to return after dinner and consequently was alone in the sixth year doors when Ron came in and saw him there.

"Look, Ron," Harry began, attempting to make some sort of peace between them.

"Bugger off, Harry," Ron replied before about-facing and leaving. For a second time, Harry was left utterly confused and alone. Where was all this uncalled for hostility coming from? He knew he was missing something and something big between Ron and Hermione but he found himself not wanting to know.

The unusual part was that it wasn't that he didn't want to know because it was probably something relationship centric. Instead, Harry just plain didn't want to know what was going on between them full stop. Ron's attitude towards him was not endearing in the least and he was quite content to let a side of his brain egg him on to distance himself further.

Wednesday dawned to a similar scene.

Harry was the first awake this morning and was standing in front of the window between his and Ron's bed, staring outside at the increasing light. He suddenly had the urge to cough and, somehow, woke Ron.

"Bloody terrific," Ron muttered after opening his eyes and seeing Harry standing in front of the window. He then rolled over and went back to sleep, leaving an increasingly angry Harry alone in the waking world.

All this hostility came to a climax that night. Harry wouldn't have believed what happened unless he'd experienced it.

Harry was trudging his way back to Gryffindor Tower after another extra lesson with Slughorn. The combination of the cacophony of smells and Slughorns' personality had sapped his energy. Still, he'd learnt practical usage of a bunch of potions, like Pain Relieving and Water Purification potions.

"Stop, no…stop," a voice carried into Harry's hearing. Uncannily, Harry was just about to pass the same corridor he'd accidentally found Ginny and Dean together.

"Come on," a second voice joined the first, coming from the corridor. Harry was too tired to recognize the voices or take note of what they were saying.

However, it was the next line that caught his attention.

"Stop means stop, Ronald!" Hermione's voice hissed.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione, why?" Ron asked, frustrated.

"Don't call me that!" Hermione nearly growled. "How many times have I told you not to call me that?"

"Dunno, don't count," Ron muttered.

"Why won't you listen? I said stop, I said no. Do I have to hex you to get the meaning of simple English?"

_What the name of Merlin is happening between them? Was Ron trying to push himself onto Hermione?_

The trail this thought went down didn't end well. Forcing oneself on another was unforgivable. If Ron was forcing himself on someone, on Hermione of all people, that was unforgivable.

The next question from Ron stunned Harry.

"Why won't you let me kiss you yet?"

His mind raced. _They haven't kissed yet? What about when they were down in the __Hogsmeade__ tunnel?_

"I told you, I'm not ready yet," came Hermione's hesitant response.

"How can you not be?" Ron asked impatiently. "What else do you do in a relationship?"

There was no reply. Harry couldn't blame her. Ron came from a large family with two very alive parents. How could he possibly think that all there was to a relationship was snogging? Surely he didn't expect to have a girlfriend that would snog him anywhere and everywhere?

"I can't do this." Hermione whispered so quietly that Harry only just caught it. It was only then, due to having to strain to hear her, Harry suddenly realized what he doing.

This was a very private moment between the two of them and he was eavesdropping. He was lucky that it was already past nine-thirty, when most students had already returned to their common rooms.

"Huh?"

"I said I can't do this." Hermione repeated, a lot less patiently and a lot louder.

"Do what?"

"Us, Ron, us!" Hermione shouted. "You do nothing but make fun of my interest in books and reading. You do nothing but use _my_ work. You do nothing but take advantage of my friendship with Harry." The instant his name came out, Harry wished she hadn't. Bringing him up in an argument with Ron wouldn't go over well, especially when it regarded their relationship. "You can't accept that just because we're in a _relationship,_" she practically spat out that word. "That I am not ready to start snogging you around the school!"

There was a soft thud, which Harry thought must've been Hermione hitting the wall. "I _never_ would have been friends with you if it wasn't for Harry." Hermione seethed.

A stunned silence followed. Harry didn't want to know what else there was going to be said and he didn't want to get caught either. He left as quietly as he could, though he suspected he could've called their names and they wouldn't have noticed.

As quickly and quietly as possible, Harry left and returned to the common room. Katie and Neville greeted him, which Harry ignored, favoring instead taking a seat in the corner and thinking furiously.

_Have I caused them to break up? I didn't mean it like that when I told them off… I just wanted them to realize that they were in danger by being too absorbed in each other._

Noticing the lack of a reply and the look of intense concentration on Harry's face, Neville and Katie exchanged odd looks and returned to their work, keeping an eye on Harry every so often.

At least twenty minutes after Harry came in, a very irate looking Ron came through the portrait hole. Harry looked up, only to receive a glare filled with pure hatred from the angry red head. He quickly looked back down, wishing to avoid any impending argument or fight in favor of a less public place. Ron kept moving, yelling at two first years that walked in front of him to move out of the way and stormed up the steps to the male dorms, leaving a stunned common room.

Even without an argument in the common room itself, it seemed that the whole tower was bound to learn of each argument Ron and Hermione had one way or another.

Sitting quietly, Harry waited for Hermione to return. He was certain she would want someone to talk to, whether he had been a decent friend over the past two weeks or not.

Several times the portrait hole opened to allow entrance to others, and for one or two to leave, risking detention as the clock steadily ticked towards ten p.m.

Hermione still hadn't returned twenty minutes later, nor had Ron descended from the dorms. Worried, Harry climbed the stairs to his room, listened at the door for any noises and, not finding any, opened the door. He took a step inside before the sight percolated through his distracted mind. Taking in the room, he let out a gasp.

The room had been trashed. Harry didn't know how it could've been kept quiet judging by the state of the room. All five four-poster beds had been demolished by what looked like a mixture of magical and physical anger. Similarly, all five residents' trunks contents were scattered throughout the entire room, with the majority of the contents destroyed and ripped. Harry had had his own fits of rage before, lashing out at friends and unfortunate random students verbally, but none of that, except for when he had trashed Dumbledore's office after Sirius' death, could compare to the total destruction of personal and school property that lay before him.

Harry crossed the distance between the doorway and his bed. It was totaled.

All four posts were no longer attached to the bed. One was lying on the bed, another was on the floor to the side, another in front of the bathroom behind him and the final one looked to be in pieces at Harry's feet.

Several of his books and robes had been destroyed along with his trunk, the lid now laying outside the door to the bathrooms beside one of the posts and the bottom still beside his bed. Shocked, Harry reached down to pick up what he could salvage when he noticed something missing.

_He wouldn't…_ Harry thought quickly, disbelievingly.

Frantically he searched the remains of his belongings in search of his most precious item.

It wasn't there.

Neither was Ron. 

Had he taken the Cloak and gone out? Was he still in here? Harry stood still, closed his eyes. He reached out with his senses, trying to figure if there were any visible or invisible presences in the room. There was no breathing, no smells that he could discern and no sounds except for the dulled sound of chatter down in the common room.

Nothing.

The Map!

Harry frantically searched his pockets to find the item still present. Silently, he thanked God he'd decided to keep it with him at all times.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry muttered the password, tapping the parchment with his wand. The magical lines that outlined Hogwarts, its interior and exterior, spread across the parchment. Hurriedly, Harry scanned the map in search of Ron and Hermione.

Although he was only in search of two people, a third caught his eye first.

The symbol of Draco Malfoy was walking around the seventh floor corridor again. He cursed his luck. He'd been waiting for this moment and it couldn't have come at a worse time. Harry watched him for a few seconds before returning to the task at hand. Whatever Ron might do in his anger, invisible as well, took priority.

Rescanning the map, Harry found Hermione in a fourth floor classroom, unmoving. Ron was back at the corridor that the two of them had argued a floor below.

Was Ron looking for her? Judging from the destruction of his property and how scattered across the room it was, he might've looked for the Marauder's Map but not found it. Even Ron would realize that summoning it would alert Harry.

Harry glanced back at the seventh floor corridor before closing the map. Malfoy was gone. Harry searched the area for him but he was nowhere in sight.

_Is the Room unplottable? Did the __Marauders__ even know of its existence?_

Harry filed those questions for later. He had no Cloak, it was now way after ten, and he had an angry Ron under _his_ Cloak and a probably very upset Hermione completely unaware of either. Those questions could definitely wait.

Harry pocketed the map and made his way downstairs, intercepting Neville on the way up. 

"Heya, Harry. Just heading off to bed…." Neville started, and then stopped noticing his grim expression.

"Get Seamus and Dean, go up to our room. _Don't_ touch _anything_," Harry ordered him.

"Why? What's happened?" he asked, taken aback by the tone of voice his friend was using.

"Ron destroyed the room." Harry stated bluntly. "Professor McGonagall will want to see it. I'm going to get her after I found Ron."

"Merlin, Harry, he destroyed the room?" said Neville in shock. He trusted Harry but he couldn't immediately believe him. However, he swallowed his questions. "Okay, I'll tell them not to touch anything."

Without waiting for a response, Harry ran down the rest of the steps, dodged a few wanderers and exited the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's warnings of the time. He dashed the length of the seventh floor, down the stairs and then the next two sets before stopping to examine the map again. Hermione hadn't moved and Ron was now going in and out of rooms at the other end of the fourth floor.

Harry quickly cast the Disillusioned Charm on himself. He'd have to thank Moody for using that on him the summer before. It was not as good as invisibility but without his Invisibility Cloak, it would suffice. Hopefully Ron would be too distracted to realize Harry was after him. Harry didn't want to believe it, the same person he'd been friends with for five years, but who knew what Ron could do if he was capable of destroying most of his possessions.

As quietly as possible, Harry narrowed the distance between himself and Ron. Thankfully Ron was moving in the wrong direction so Hermione was now at the other end of the floor, out of any danger… if she was in any.

_Just what was Ron thinking, taking my Cloak and going after Hermione?_ _What more did they say to each other after I left?_

A door closed ahead of Harry. It was quiet but he'd heard it. Harry double checked the map to make sure Ron was on the outside of the room. Seeing that he was, Harry looked in Ron's general direction. According to the Map, Ron was just about to enter an intersection. Harry looked up, saw the intersection at the end of his eyesight but could see nothing else. The Invisibility Cloak really worked well.

Harry grabbed his wand and raised it to face Ron's general direction. Of course Harry could have used the Summoning Charm from his common room if he had wanted to, though that would've revealed it to everyone. He then could have used it outside the common room where nobody would have been around to see it; however Harry wanted this confrontation over and done with now that he had the chance to do it without a large audience, and now that Ron had gone this far.

"_Accio Invisibility Cloak!"_ Harry thought. The Cloak flew off Ron and straight towards the disillusioned Harry. Harry ducked into the Cloak, letting it drop onto him, wanting to see Ron's reaction.

He wasn't disappointed. Ron was absolutely livid.

Thankfully, he'd been facing the wrong way to see the shimmery outline of the disillusioned Harry before he had ducked under the Cloak. Silently, Harry removed the Disillusionment Charm, shivering at the feeling of an egg running down his back.

"Who's there?" Ron demanded, slowly turning around the t-intersection, fruitlessly trying to determine where the person who had divested him of his invisibility. "I said, who's there?" he demanded a second time after a moment's silence. "Who took the Cloak off of me?"

Harry watched his friends' face, watched as the redhead twisted and turned, trying to locate the person who had stolen his advantage. What was causing him to do this? Ron could lose his temper, Harry had been friends with Ron long enough to understand that, but this was another level entirely. Where was the anger coming from? He was missing something, something that explained everything, but it was something that he wasn't going to find out considering Ron's state.

"It's not nice to steal other people's things, let alone destroy them," Harry said, revealing himself finally. Harry pulled his Cloak off with his left hand, wand raised in his right.

"Harry!" Ron replied nervously. "I uh, just needed to borrow it." If it weren't for the situation, Harry would've laughed at the poor excuse.

"So instead of asking me politely, like friends do, you trash our dorm, destroy all five of our beds and a lot of our possessions, and steal it?" Harry countered false-calmly. Enough was enough. He wouldn't even admit it.

Ron cringed. "Yeah, I had a bad day and let it out on the room. Sorry, mate," he responded sheepishly.

"Right, _mate_," Harry replied darkly. This time Ron actually noticed the venom in his words.

"What's with the wand, Harry?" he asked sweetly, looking anywhere except at the teenager with the wand. Harry didn't respond for a moment.

"What were you going to do with my Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked, dodging the question.

Ron stumbled over his words for a moment before getting a coherent response out. "Just wanted some time alone,"

"You're a prefect." Harry tore his reason to shreds in three words. "You're allowed out after curfew."

Ron cringed a second time. He was in big trouble and he knew it. "Of course," he forced a laugh. "How silly of me," That cinched it. Ron was going to do something very wrong if he still wouldn't admit to it.

"Quit lying, _Ronald_," Harry spoke threateningly. A month ago, intimidation from Harry would've been laughable against Ron, who was still much taller. The three weeks of extra training had already made the difference in ability between the two far, far more evident. Coupled with the changes in his personality, Harry was no longer a person to be taken lightly.

"Answer truthfully or I'll force it out of you," Harry continued, not going to let him playing games anymore.

Ron was shocked, to say the least, at Harry. There was nothing friendly about his demeanor, only contempt.

With no response seemingly coming, Harry grimaced and said "Sorry," before dropped the Cloak on the floor next to himself, took four steps forward, grabbed a hold of Ron's robes and, taking a leaf out of Daphne's book, pushed him up against a wall, hard.

"Any person who knows you and Hermione for a week will know you two argue," Harry explained coldly, maintaining his hold and wand on Ron. "Making it completely obvious to even the stupidest people that you and Hermione argued." Ron tensed, realizing that Harry was close to the truth, and unintentionally giving Harry the evidence to confirm his thoughts were correct. He then added harshly, "So, what were you going to do to Hermione? What did you do to her that caused her to make you this mad?"

"What makes you say she didn't do something?" Ron countered defensively, beginning to struggle against Harry's hold. He then winced a third time when he realized he'd effectively admitted to having an argument.

"I know Hermione," Harry replied simply. He studied Ron for a moment and loosened his hold slightly. "What's going on, Ron?" he said in a softer tone. "Why are you like this, what's happening here?"

"Mr. Potter!" a surprised voice called out, distracting the pair. "Mr. Weasley!" continued the stern, feminine voice. Harry turned and found Professor McGonagall approaching the two of them from the side corridor. "What are you two doing here? Shouldn't you be in your common room, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall reprimanded. "And release Mr. Weasley at once, Mr. Potter!"

"Certainly, Professor McGonagall," Harry agreed, pushing Ron into the wall again and letting go. "I would be in bed right now if _Ronald_ here hadn't destroyed our dorm, beds and belongings and stolen something of mine."

"Destroyed your belongings?" McGonagall repeated in disbelief. "Is this true?" she asked, rounding on Ron.

Ron glowered at Harry, who merely glared back in response, willing Ron to get the message 'you had your chance'. Had there been an adequate explanation for all this… but it was too late now.

"Yes, Professor," Ron replied, ashamedly, seeing no way out now.

"Good gracious. Why would you do that?" McGonagall asked, shocked and exasperated. This was not the conduct she had expected from her students.

"I had a bad day," Ron offered lamely.

"Professor," Harry interrupted, seeing no resolution in sight. "Can I go see Professor Dumbledore?"

McGonagall surveyed Harry, trying to discern his reason for going over her head. Harry kept his face blank as best he could while maintaining his focus on Ron. Occlumency, now that he was able to do it reasonably well after learning it the proper way over the summer break, aided his cause. "You're welcome to visit the Headmaster any time Mr. Potter, however he isn't in the school at the moment."

Harry moved his gaze off Ron to McGonagall. Dumbledore wasn't in the school? 

"Oh," he responded simply. "Then I'll return to the… _remainder_ of my room." Harry dropped his wand arm and turned to go, picking up his Cloak as he went. "Professor," McGonagall stiffened. "I suggest you ask him what he was going to do with my Invisibility Cloak and make sure you get an honest answer."

The silence that followed was harsh to all concerned. Harry took the lack of response as a cue to leave and set off down the corridor, out of sight. He withdrew the map and found Hermione in the same room as before. Ron and McGonagall were already on the move downstairs, presumably to her office. Then it really hit him, what had just happened.

Ron trashed their room, their beds and belongings, stole his Invisibility Cloak, set off in search of Hermione. What would've happened in Harry didn't have the Marauder's Map? Would Ron have found her first? What would he have done?

Harry felt ill. Was this the same Ron Weasley he had been friends with since the first train ride to Hogwarts? Was that Ron really capable of forcing himself onto Hermione? It was something expected from a Death Eater… not a friend. He didn't act like he was under duress, none of the signs of the Imperius. That meant he did it all under free will.

Ron did let his jealously control him quite often. Ron did let his anger control him just as often.

Harry hadn't been the perfect example of calm the previous year, yet he never, ever would have done what he thought Ron was about to do.

He stood still, leaning his head against the cold, harsh stone of the walls of Hogwarts. What was going on? First suddenly having trouble connecting with Hermione and now Ron completely losing it for reasons he wasn't willing to share.

Frustrated and confused, Harry lashed out against the wall with his first. Unfortunately that did little to abate said frustration and confusion, only bothering him further with the pain in his fist.

Harry didn't understand. What was causing everyone to act so strangely?

It took Harry awhile to calm down. Anger and disgust boiled up inside him as he stood there, leaning against the wall, attempting to make sense of Ron's actions. What made the entire situation worse was that this wasn't a random Death Eater who had gone out to attack Hermione, but someone he thought he knew, trusted and liked as a close friend.

He forced himself to move and find Hermione. Maybe she would have some answers.

Harry knocked on the door to the room Hermione was in once he got there. There wasn't a response, not to Harry's surprise. He gave her a minute before knocking again, giving her the chance to compose herself, if she was even attentive enough to notice the knocking. Harry pocketed his wand and the Cloak, and opened the door.

Hermione was across the room, staring out one of the windows like he had been earlier in the week, but this was into the night. This abandoned room used to be a classroom judging by the layout. There was a chalkboard on the wall to Harry's left, a table in front of it and several overturned chairs on Harry's right. It was another room that had fallen into disrepair over the years.

Above Hermione were a dozen yellow canaries darting in and out of each others flight paths. Sixth year Transfiguration was to start Conjuration next term. Clearly Hermione had read ahead.

Her back was turned to Harry. She didn't make any reaction to Harry coming in or make any indication she knew of his presence, even after closing the door. Slowly, quietly, Harry crossed the room. He stopped in front of the canaries, wary of them. He had been told by McGonagall some of the uses of Conjured animals and wasn't really looking to being attacked by a dozen canaries.

Seeing no attack coming, for their creator still didn't notice his presence, Harry approached Hermione. The windowsill was large enough for two people. Hermione was situated in the middle, oblivious to anyone else in the room. He gently nudged her to the side, causing her to jump a mile. Harry leaned down onto the sill, staring out into the night sky. In the corner of Harry's restricted vision, Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes. She clearly hadn't expected him to come looking for her.

The sky was cloudless, the stars visible. There was a slight wind, causing Harry to shiver every now and then, the cold brushing against his exposed skin. Goosebumps slowly appeared up and down his arms and legs.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," he replied, still staring out into the night. He could see how Hermione could get absorbed staring out there. It was beautiful, seeing the Hogwarts grounds in the night from their vantage point. It was so quiet and calm, the polar opposite of his life in the daytime. "Ron came back in a right state, trashed our room, and destroyed our beds and our belongings. All five of ours." Harry elaborated. Hermione gasped and looked away.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized softly. "I accidentally overheard some of your argument with him on my way back from class with Slughorn." Hermione, naturally, tensed. "It was a private moment. I left before the end of the conversation, though by the state Ron was in, I wish I had known the rest so I could've stopped him."

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"From when you stated telling him off for forcing himself on you, till he said 'what else do you do in a relationship'," Harry let out a small, nearly humorless chuckle. "He has a family, a loving one at that, and he doesn't know that there's more to a relationship than snogging?"

Hermione let out a small laugh, which sounded more hysterical than natural. He noticed dried tears on her cheeks.

Harry winced, _another girl that's crying in front of me…_

Not being able to think of anything else to cheer her up, Harry put an arm on her shoulder. Hermione suddenly stepped forward hugged Harry. She let out a few muffled sobs. A minute later she removed her head from his robes. Harry, surprised at the hug, had awkwardly put his arms around her, the problems between them briefly dissipating, and their height difference more apparent than ever

Then Hermione spoke the words he thought he would never hear from her. "Harry, I don't know what to do," she whispered. Her hands clenched tightly on his robes, preventing him from moving anywhere.

"I need help, Harry," she pleaded. "I've been having dreams…"

"Dreams? What kind of dreams?" he interrupted. The word rang alarm bells in his mind. His mind raced to his own dreams. _Was she having Voldemort induced dreams? How could that be?_

"I'm watching a memory…" Hermione answered distractedly. "It's one of my own memories, Harry but I can't remember it when I'm conscious. I'm talking with Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow during summer before you arrived."

"And?"

Hermione dropped her gaze. "She-she-she asks me about my-my feelings for Ron," Hermione turned away, hiding her tears and embarrassment. "Then the memory is covered by this fog that I can't see through. There are voices that I can't make out, then flashes that look like spell fire and crashing and then silence." 

"I've dreamt this almost every night since the night we returned to Hogwarts," said Hermione, releasing Harry and regaining his gaze from a distance. Her eyes were filled with the same vulnerability he saw in them on their first night back and when she had asked him what she should do about Ron asking her out.

"Harry, what if Mrs. Weasley is involved?"

"She wouldn't…" Harry said in disbelief. "No, Mrs. Weasley isn't that kind of person." Harry forced a laugh. "I must be insane to even think that. She's been nothing but nice to us. There's got to be something else."

"Do you remember her 'one big, happy Weasley family' dream?" Hermione asked, certain they had the same thought. "Did you hear that Mrs. Weasley originally used a Love Potion to get the attention of Mr. Weasley?"

Harry paled. "Are you saying that she would do the same to you and Ron? Just to get that silly dream?" he asked. His mind was having difficulties believing that the person that was as close to a replacement mother as anyone would most likely get would do such a thing.

"I don't know," Hermione replied uncertainly. She started pacing. "I don't know," she repeated. "Before I started dreaming, I would never have thought so. The last two and a half weeks, I have been replaying the summer over and over; trying to recall this memory but it's not there! It's as if… as if my memory has been modified."

Horrified, Harry was speechless for several moments. All barriers between them were long forgotten. "B-but…" was all he could get out. Was Mrs. Weasley truly capable of using Love Potions and Memory Charms to get what she wanted? She was an overbearing and overprotective mother, sure, but this was another step or two down a very wrong path.

"I don't want to believe it either, Harry." Hermione said solemnly. "You… you overheard the part about me not kissing him yet?" she asked, facing away from him.

Harry flushed. If there was absolutely one part he knew he shouldn't have overheard, it was that. "Yeah."

"I couldn't do it," Hermione continued, still pacing. "We were on patrol and passed that statue of the one-eyed witch. I wanted to check to see if it was still clear and asked Ron for the password. We went down into that tunnel and walked the length and back. Ron and I started talking and he tried to…" she trailed off. Harry already had played those images through his head once, so he adamantly ignored them the second time. "I wanted a quiet place, one where I knew we wouldn't get interrupted by chance, and Ron figured that that was the time. But I couldn't. I couldn't, not knowing whether what I feel is real, whether my feelings are forced because of this memory."

"The same happened over and over and Ron was angry about it… and today," Hermione looked downwards at her feet. "We were on patrol and I, this time, was seriously considering kissing him just once. I don't know why... to prove to Ron I was in the relationship? To prove it to myself that I could go through with it and wipe away any of my doubts? But, again, I couldn't." She shook her head, still facing the ground. "Ron finally lost his patience I guess. He must want an, excuse my lack of tact, easy woman."

Hermione stopped pacing and lifted her face to look at Harry. "You had every right to leave us out." She claimed, referring to Sunday night. "You're right; neither of us are focused enough on the task at hand. It was easier to ignore the clues and pretend the problem didn't exist so I could deal with my own."

"Hermione…" Harry responded, surprised.

"I vowed to myself, after you saved me from that troll," she started, head slightly cocked to the side, reminiscing. "That I would always been there for you. Do everything I could to help you. I would always put you first." She locked gazes with Harry again. "Sometimes that caused rifts between us." Harry immediately knew she was referring to the Firebolt. He grimaced. "No need to apologize, Harry. I know you're sorry. I believe you would have been angry at me for going behind your back but would have forgiven me quicker if it weren't for _him._"

Silently, Harry found himself agreeing. He'd been influenced by Ron into quite a few things he didn't advocate. But Ron was his first friend, if he'd stood up to him, he would've been friendless again. Harry couldn't have handled that at the time, not after finally managing to make a friend after ten years at the Dursley's.

"Anyway," Hermione discarded that line of thinking. "What worries me is that if Mrs. Weasley did do something to me, somebody else is in on it."

"What makes you…?" Harry paused. Thinking aloud, he said, "If it's a potion, then someone would have to continue administering it."

"Right," Hermione agreed.

"That means someone else has the same dream, or some part of that dream works in their favor." Hermione nodded in agreement.

"See why I've been distracted lately?"

"That means," Harry continued, ignoring the half question. "Somebody that knows the Weasley's… someone that we know is in on it."

Hermione approached the window and resumed her original position. "I don't want to think the worst of people straight off, but I think its Ginny."

This didn't surprise Harry. After her performance in front of Padma last week, she wasn't on Harry's trust list. He told Hermione about the confrontation.

"She brought me drinks and food all throughout the summer too, spent a lot of time talking boys with me." Hermione revealed. "I've been trying to think of anyone else who would have a reason to do this. Mrs. Weasley could have just told Ginny to bring the meals to me since I'm a guest, Ginny having no involvement whatsoever. That reason isn't valid when I'm here at Hogwarts. Who, besides Ginny, could be doing this?"

That was the sixty four galleon question. Who at Hogwarts was tainting Hermione's food and drink or casting spells on her?

"Wait," Harry said suddenly. He turned to look at Hermione. "You have your doubts about this right, then why are you still eating food without checking it? I would've noticed if you were casting spells over your food… unless you can do it wandlessly?"

Hermione grinned briefly. "I'm not that good a witch, Harry. I would've beaten you if I could do wandless magic."

"Then why?"

"If whoever it is knows I've caught on to them, that'll make them harder to find," Hermione explained. "If I continue to have such little reaction… to the potion or whatever, I'm resisting as much as I can, that'll also frustrate the person behind it all, making mistakes more likely. Now that this has happened, whoever it was may make mistakes for Ron and I will never be together, not after this, no matter what his excuse is."

Harry nodded in understanding. "There's one more thing," Hermione continued.

Harry shot her an inquisitive glance. What else could there be?

"Whoever wants me with Ron, doesn't want you and me close. Who would hate it the most if you and I grew apart?"

"Ginny." Harry said slowly. He was not blind. He had noticed that Ginny had a crush on him since they had met, if not earlier. That was part of the reason he would never even consider going out with her. She idolized him and hadn't made any attempts to get to know him. Could she really be any different than those other worshippers out there? "Why?"

Hermione sent him a wistful look. "I've been completely absorbed in all these problems on top of school work and the DA. After brushing you off Monday night, I realized what I'd done and also realized that it hadn't been the first time we've had problems since that talk the first night back."

"And this change in our friendship started after that night," Harry concluded. "So what can we do about it?"

"Very little without knowing exactly what's being used," Hermione replied weakly. "We can't go out and accuse people with any evidence. They'll just deny it and we'll get nowhere. Right now I can only think that we wait until whoever it is starts to make mistakes. I'll try and research ways of identifying enchantments. In the meantime, we need to be observant and not let this interfere with our friendship."

Harry nodded, not liking the idea at all but trusting her. Then, Hermione added one last thought that he later wished she hadn't.

"Magic is strong enough to tear friendships apart, Harry. No matter how hard one can try, magical influence can win out. The only power we have is how long we can resist."

There was a long, tense silence.

"Welcome to my problems," Hermione said humorlessly after awhile.

The two of them shared a few more minutes of silence before deciding it time to return to their dorms. Harry donned his Cloak, as he wasn't a prefect, forgetting that if Hermione escorted him it wouldn't matter unless they chanced upon Snape. Hermione walked slowly so Harry could keep up.

Before she opened the door, she turned to where she thought he was. "Thank you for coming after me, Harry."

"You're my best friend, Hermione," Harry responded. "Magical influence or not, I'm still your friend. If you're right, which I hope to God you're not, this won't be an easy term for us. If I'm affected too… I think I am because I…" Harry turned away, not that Hermione could see. "I keep finding myself not caring about what happens between us. It's like if we stay together I'm okay with it and if we part I'm okay with it."

Hermione didn't respond, but Harry didn't really want her too. The day had been long enough without another round of debate regarding what was happening between them. At last, Harry added, "If Ron hadn't stolen my Cloak to come after you I'd have been here earlier."

"To come after me?!" Hermione repeated, alarmed. Harry winced; he forgot that they hadn't gotten to that. He sighed and began explaining on their way back.

Professor McGonagall was waiting for the two of them in the common room, along with Neville and Ron. Briefly the two of them wondered where Dean and Seamus were.

"Ah, Miss Granger, thank you for finally joining us."

Hermione flushed slightly at keeping a teacher waiting. "Sorry, Professor, I had a lot on my mind."

"Undoubtedly, Miss Granger," McGonagall concurred. "Is Mr. Potter with you, perhaps under his Cloak?"

Harry revealed himself, knowing that sneaking around the school just got a lot harder now that McGonagall was aware of the Cloak.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Potter." McGonagall pursed her lips; clearly not liking the fact Harry did have an Invisibility Cloak. Privately, it did explain how he got around to where he did so easily.

"Now, let's get down to business. It is late and I wish to retire." McGonagall turned to the other two occupants in the room. Harry and Hermione took seats away from Ron.

"Mr. Weasley has been stripped of his prefect status." McGonagall announced. There were three gasps. Ron bowed his head and didn't say a thing, not making eye contact with anyone. "This is for his conduct. I am deeply ashamed to have one of my charges act in such a fashion. You should treat other people's property as if they were your own."

"In addition, Mr. Weasley, you have a month's detention. I will also be writing home to your parents. This is completely unacceptable behavior." McGonagall pursed her lips further, so they almost disappeared off of her face. "Personally, I would have suspended you if I was Headmistress; however, Professor Dumbledore doesn't wish to suspend or expel students except as a last resort."

"Now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom." McGonagall turned her attention to Harry and Neville. "Many of your belongings were salvaged. Your roommates are upstairs already, sorting through their remains."

Harry was surprised and relieved to hear that. He had precious few possessions to call his own. Some of them were priceless – his photo album was, as far as he knew, one of a kind. It could take him years to track down more photos of his parents.

"This weekend, I'm allowing the five of you to take a trip to Diagon Alley to buy replacement items. Since Mr. Weasley is the one who destroyed them, the money will come from his pocket." Ron looked up in shock. McGonagall saw the expression and sent him her own look, absent of any pity. "You must know that foolish actions have consequences. You are lucky you weren't suspended Mr. Weasley. Don't try and make it worse for yourself." Ron ducked his head again.

"Your beds have been repaired. It is late; you should all retire." Harry, Neville and Hermione got up. They bade each other goodnight and climbed the stairs.

"If anything like this happens again Mr. Weasley," McGonagall's voice floated up the stairwells. "You will be expelled, Headmaster's reservations or not."

Harry and Neville shared disgusted looks and entered their dorm. Sighing at the mess, Harry crossed the room, summoned the remains of his belongings and began making a list of items he would need.

It had been another long day.

Harry's sixth year had gone for two and a half weeks and so much had already happened. Two friendships were moving close to the edge, and one was already gone. Malfoy and whatever he was up to in the Room of Requirement was also worrying.

As Harry watched Dean, Seamus and Neville continue to pick up and find temporary homes for their belongings; he wondered what else was going to happen before karma was satisfied that the universe was equal again.


	7. The Small Print

A/N: Song title comes from the UK band 'Muse'.

Thanks to chem. prof for his continued beta work that makes this story far more readable than it would be otherwise.

_**Chapter 7: The Small Print**_

Hogwarts was infamous for its gossip network. The news of Ron losing his prefect status was known throughout the halls ten minutes into breakfast.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was a painful experience Thursday afternoon. The Gryffindor half of the room shunned Ron, while the Slytherin contingent took every chance they got to bring it up. Snape the harassment last twenty minutes before Ron finally snapped and cost his house thirty points. That did him no favors.

Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry for his former friend. Neither could Hermione or Neville. The DA met briefly during the lunch break and were brought up to speed on the specifics of what happened the previous evening. Not even Daphne dared make light of the situation.

"It would be appreciated if you all kept an eye on Hermione and myself over the next few weeks, too." Harry said quietly. "If something… if we do something uncharacteristic, let us know."

"Uncharacteristic? What do you mean?" asked Padma.

"Fighting, or our behavior, or anything that isn't normal for us." Hermione elaborated. Several eyebrows rose. They'd spoken of this several days prior amongst themselves.

Katie gave the pair worried looks. "You're completely serious, aren't you?"

"We are."

Hermione elected not to seek the advice of Madame Pomfrey or a Healer. There was always the chance that the culprit would realize their freedom and retreat. She wanted to know who was behind this more than anything.

Harry didn't like what options that left them with. He was as desperate to Hermione to know who would do this to them. Fighting the influence would only, presumably, become more difficult the longer they were affected by whatever was affecting them. He was willing to agree and follow Hermione's lead for now, but hoped and prayed that this wouldn't last too much longer.

Occlumency became the subject of the meeting. Hermione explained the basics. The first time Hermione had first told him Harry had been furious. Relaxing the mind, clearing it of thought was indeed a major part of the process. But there was more to it, more that Snape failed to mention.

Showing his growing maturity, when Harry had learnt of this during the summer, he'd kept his mouth shut and set about practicing. Now, he believed his mental defenses to be adequate, however if anyone assaulted his mind for any extended length of time, they'd falter. It took years to completely master the mind arts, and Harry was at best a month into his study.

Nevertheless, the remainder of the group was expected to learn Occlumency to a satisfactory stage by the end of the term. If Harry were to reveal the prophecy, it had to be safe.

The opposite, Legilimency, was another matter entirely. With Luna's permission, he'd tested his mediocre ability on her. When he had prodded into her mind, he whisked his way through dozens of images of rare or possibly even non-existent creatures, thoughts of her friends, family, memories of her childhood and some _very_ disturbing dreams that caused Harry to stop and pull out. Blushing, he told Hermione that nobody entering Luna's mind would be able to find anything useful. Luna just smiled back serenely, unconcerned by the whole matter.

When Ernie asked why Harry was blushing, he told them he found out what Luna's real hair color was. Susan and Hannah spent the remainder of the lunch break mercilessly teasing him. Hannah took exceptional entertainment in this, asking Harry if he'd like to see whether she was a real blonde or not.

Suffice to say, Harry was unable to concentrate on Herbology after lunch. Hannnah had to save him from a Biting Baneberry that caught him by surprise.

Harry sent Fleur an owl, telling her that he would be at Diagon Alley on the weekend and to check with Dumbledore what time he would arrive. It would make things much simpler to have a familiar, friendly face as a guard since one was inevitable.

Dumbledore called Harry into to his office after dinner that night.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice penetrated the wooden door he stood behind. Harry opened it up and took an offered seat.

"You called for me, sir?"

"Miss Delacour has inquired to when you are arriving at Diagon Alley to acquire new supplies after Mr. Weasley's unfortunate loss of self control."

Harry fought hard not to snort. 'Loss of self control' indeed.

"May I inquire to why she wishes to know?"

"When Bill and Fleur were here, the topic of wills came up in conversation." Harry replied truthfully. "Fleur mentioned that it was surprising I hadn't already viewed my parents' will and offered to arrange a meeting at Gringotts so I can view it."

Dumbledore nodded, as if it was nothing he hadn't expected.

"Yes, the desire to see something connected to your parents must be strong." Dumbledore agreed. "However, I can't condone that."

Harry started. "What?"

"I said that I can't condone that."

"I heard that," Harry gritted his teeth to prevent himself from snapping in response. "What I meant was why?"

Dumbledore sighed and interlocked his fingers. He searched Harry's face through his glasses. "The will shall only bring you pain. It is best for you not to read it."

"With all due respect, sir," Harry said forcefully. "You aren't my guardian. I can view my parents' will with or without your permission."

Dumbledore made no reaction whatsoever. Yet, Harry the extended period of silence told Harry all he needed to know. He'd surprised him.

This was the first time he had truly defied Dumbledore. Harry had been angry, upset over Sirius and wanted nothing to do with Dumbledore after the Ministry last June. This time he was outright disagreeing.

Harry wasn't overly concerned about it. He wanted to see his parents' will. Dumbledore was right. The pull of something connected to his parents was strong, something he wasn't even willing to fight whether it would bring him pain or pleasure.

"That is true, Harry." Dumbledore said in his ever calm tone. "I simply wish to give you sound advice. I think I have earned that privilege?" It wasn't so much a question as an order. Harry didn't like it one bit.

"Sir, I wish to see my parents' will. I want to know what more about them, who they trusted, and what they left me. Fleur never said it, but she implied that I should've been made aware when I entered the magical world."

"I still don't recommend it, Harry." Dumbledore implored. "It would be best for you to get your supplies and leave as quickly as possible."

"You think a Death Eater attack will happen while I'm away?"

"The chances are slim." Dumbledore admitted. "However, it is wise to err on the side of caution in these dark times."

"You'll have members of the Order tailing me?"

"Undoubtedly, Harry."

"That's perfect." Harry said cheerfully. "Fleur is a member of the Order. Death Eaters wouldn't attack Gringotts itself. The only time I could be in danger will be while I'm shopping anyway. Fleur will keep me safe, and any others you have hidden amongst the crowd will be keeping an eye on us."

Dumbledore sighed in defeat. Harry was right; he had no authority over him outside his role as Headmaster. Denying him access would only damage their relationship further.

"Er, sir," started Harry, suddenly a lot less confident. "What's happened to Tonks? She was supposed to meet me the weekend after term started. I've sent two owls and haven't had any response."

Dumbledore stood up quickly, startling Harry. He placed his arms behind his back and strode behind his desk to the perch where Fawkes spent his time. However, today the phoenix was absent.

"Nymphadora was assigned a mission for the Ministry the evening of the attack on the Hogwarts Express." Dumbledore said quietly. "I believe she has received your communications and is as safe as she can be. I'm afraid her assignment has several weeks left. You won't hear from her for some time yet. I can't inform you any more details for safety reasons."

"If you're referring to my head, it's far safer than it was last year, sir," said Harry bitterly. "No thanks to Snape. Hermione had to research the correct method of learning Occlumency."

"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore admonished. "Nevertheless, the details aren't for you to know. It isn't safe for non-Order members, or for people not of age."

Harry resisted the urge to push further. Dumbledore wasn't the type to give more information than he thought was necessary. He'd no doubt reached that threshold for this conversation.

"One more thing, Harry," Dumbledore continued. "Due to Mr. Weasley's actions, he was stripped of his prefect badge." Dumbledore turned and walked back behind his desk, opened a drawer and withdrew a badge. "I believe this is now yours." He offered the badge.

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied, taking the offered badge and staring at it in disbelief. His earlier anger at the Headmaster dissipated instantly.

"I told you last year, Harry, I would have chosen you over Mr. Weasley had I not thought you had enough to deal with. You have grown up over the summer, much earlier than I would've liked. You deserve this."

Dumbledore smiled down on Harry. "Now off you trot. I believe Ms. Granger has a fair bit to explain to you about prefect duties."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione's talk on the prefect duties lasted an hour. The main parts were simple enough – patrol the corridors after curfew, assign detentions to troublemakers, and meet together fortnightly to discuss any problems within each house and mention ideas for the future. The lesser known duties involved aiding teachers whenever asked, decorations, and management of several clubs, amongst other things.

A special gathering on Friday morning introduced Harry to rest of the prefects. Hannah, Ernie and Padma welcomed him, Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson typically took to make snide remarks about being second fiddle to Ron, and Anthony Goldstein, the other sixth year Ravenclaw prefect, didn't seem to care about the change. That suited Harry just fine.

The Marauder's Map had not shown Malfoy approach the Room of Requirement again since Wednesday evening. Harry wasn't sure what to make of that. Malfoy wasn't acting any more arrogant than usual. If anything, he looked paler.

Life in the sixth year dormitory had become tense. Nobody spoke to Ron, Ron spoke to nobody. Seamus and Dean had taken to housing their remaining possessions under their bed and magically closing off the curtains around their four-poster bed. Harry thought they were overreacting, yet slept with his Invisibility Cloak under his sheets.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived on after breakfast on Friday morning to see Ron. Harry could only imagine the yelling that would ensue. He and Hermione made themselves scarce, not really looking to get involved, and not wanting to confront the person who may have erased a memory from Hermione. Neville provided a lookout for them when Mrs. Weasley came to Gryffindor Tower to see them.

That evening, Ginny had approached Harry while he was reading some of Hermione's class notes. She tried to apologize for Ron.

"If Ron wants to apologize to us, he should do it himself." Harry said curtly. "How can he expect any forgiveness when he won't face his problems?"

"Please, Harry –"

"You should be apologizing for your own mistakes, not acting on Ron's behalf." Harry interrupted her, not even bothering to look at her.

"I'm sorry, Harr – hey, what are you doing? I'm trying to apologize here."

Standing with Hermione's notes in hand, he faced Ginny and looked her in the eye. "You shouldn't have to be reminded to apologize to someone. Come back when you're sincere and don't require my prompting to say it."

Saturday dawned to a bright and sunny day. The five sixth year Gryffindor males met up outside Dumbledore's office at quarter-to-ten. McGonagall appeared a few minutes later and escorted them into Dumbledore's office. Having never seen it before, Dean, Seamus and Neville were wrapped up in their wonder at all the trinkets and gadgets that only their owner knew what they performed.

Harry was apprehensive. Dumbledore had warned him that his parents' will would only bring him pain. What on their will could possibly do that?

"Now," began Dumbledore, smiling at the five students in his best grandfatherly impression. "You have three hours to purchase your possessions anew. Please refrain from dawdling." His gaze lingered on Harry for a long moment.

"Best be off, then." Dumbledore said brightly. He gestured in the direction of his fireplace.

McGonagall went first, to ensure their safety on the opposite end. After a minute, the five Gryffindors followed suit. Harry, unused to using the Floo, fell to the ground on his arrival. Dean and Seamus, who'd arrived before him, snickered. Half a second later the fireplace roared to life again and Neville appeared, stumbling and falling. Harry barely managed to get out of the way. Ron appeared a moment later.

"Three Ministry Aurors are outside and will be watching you." McGonagall informed the five as they dusted themselves off. "Stick together as much as possible. Ah, and Harry, Miss Delacour is awaiting you at the Weasley shop." Her lips pursed together. Harry wasn't sure what she disapproved of – Fleur or the Weasley twins creating a plethora of items certain to become nuisances in her near future.

Kingsley Shacklebolt met the group outside. His intimidating frame produced an aura of strength, one that calmed Harry, knowing his was a capable Auror and a member of the Order. Kingsley gave Harry a discreet nod of greeting.

"Mr. Potter, I am to escort you until you are under Miss Delacour's care." Kingsley spoke in his deep baritone. Dean and Seamus exchanged amused expressions. "Savage, Proudfoot, remain with the other four. You lot, stick together."

Seamus smirked at Harry as he left with Kingsley. Aurors Savage and Proudfoot immediately began laying some ground rules to the other four students.

"Stick with Miss Delacour at all times, Harry." Kingsley said quietly. His voice was almost lost in the clamor of the Alley. There were several dozen wizards and witches present in sight, no doubt more in the stores. Apparently Voldemort's presence had yet to scare the public of the streets.

"I will." Harry promised.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was easily the most vibrant and peculiar store in Diagon Alley. It had changed a fair bit since Harry visited not one month ago, new products lining the walls and many displays having been moved around for some reason or other. The shop was filled with customers, chatting away excitedly. Young women giggled over the love potions, daydream inducers and other femininely inclined items.

Kingsley and Harry entered the store, a bell jingling above them. Harry searched amongst the crowd for Fleur.

"Over 'ere 'Arry," Fleur's voice cut through the crowd. Most of the males looked up at the sound of her voice and were instantly entranced. Harry quickly dodged, gently pushed and politely asked several customers to move in order to reach and greet Fleur.

"Good morning, Fleur."

The woman was wearing jeans that suited her figure perfectly, coupled with a navy blue Muggle long-sleeved shirt. Heritage aside, Fleur looked great. Bill was indeed a lucky man.

Fleur smiled at him, and then faced the towering Kingsley. "I will take care of 'im. I'll keep you updated on our location once our business at Gringotts is finished."

Kingsley exchanged a few words with Fleur quietly and then bade farewell.

"Let's go." Harry urged, his earlier apprehension forgotten already. A dozen or so entranced male customers were checking their appearances in whatever reflective surfaces were available. A few glared at Harry. "Dumbledore's only given me a few hours."

"Zis will take as long as eet takes." Fleur replied. Harry raised an eyebrow. Fleur didn't elaborate. Instead, she gestured to a swamped looking Verity manning the store by herself. "Fred and George are out. You might catch zem on ze way back."

The pair left the colorful store and followed the brick path to the marble white monolith at the crossroads with Knockturn Alley. The structure loomed over the much smaller businesses on the side. A couple dozen wizards and witches were seen entering and exiting on the pair's approach.

"Is all this security really necessary?" asked Harry, looking around at the crowded stores. "Look at all these people. Are the Death Eaters really going to try and get to me here, especially when only a few people even knew about this trip?"

"Eet is unlikely," agreed Fleur. "But would you risk eet?"

Harry thought for a long moment. "Probably not," he replied honestly.

The pair climbed the stairs and entered Gringotts itself. Two dozen humans and half a dozen Goblins were lining up and serving customers respectively. As Harry absorbed his surroundings, another wizard and Goblin appeared from the direction of the mine cart to the vaults.

Fleur strode on purposefully, showing her comfort with the intimidating building. However, she was heading in a different direction than the public service counters.

"Where are we going?" asked Harry, having jogged to catch up to her.

"We 'ave a private room." Fleur said with a careless wave of her hand. "Ze Goblin in charge also wishes to speak wiz you." Harry's eyes widened.

"The Goblin in charge?" he repeated. "Why?"

"You should 'ave been made aware of your parents' will ze moment you arrived in ze wizarding world, zough you may not 'ave understood eet." Fleur explained. The pair entered a small corridor off to the side of the main room. "He wishes to speak wiz you."

At Harry's speechlessness, Fleur spoke on. "As I mentioned before, ze Potters were well off. Zere has been no access to your accounts since your parents last visited. Zerefore, no gold 'as been spent. Your fortune 'as increased since your accounts were untouched."

"Are you telling me I'm rich?"

"Far from ze richest, 'Arry," said Fleur, smiling. "But furzer from ze poorest."

That kept Harry silent for the remainder of the trek. He was boggling at the idea that he was rich. However, it did provide a solution to a few future problems.

The pair passed two Goblins hurrying in the opposite direction. Harry was paid no mind.

"'ere we are." Fleur announced, drawing to a halt. Harry stared at the door. It extended at least ten feet high and the same wide. It was wooden and magnificently crafted.

"This is intimidating." Harry whispered, staring up at the door. He turned to see Fleur now wearing robes, her wand in her hand.

At his questioning glance, Fleur said, "I prefer to wear zose clothes out of ze 'house. Bill makes me wear ze robes all ze time." Her beautiful face soured a little. "At Beauxbatons, we were allowed to wear whatever we wished outside of our classes."

Uncertain of what to say, Harry remained quiet. It sounded as if Fleur wasn't content in her relationship. But before he could ponder it anymore, the doors groaned loudly, reverberating in the corridor, and parted. Fleur entered, in perfect picture of calm. Harry followed suit, the perfect picture of nervousness.

The head Goblin's office was massive. It was roughly the same height as the Great Hall but only a third of the size. Yet for one person, it was enormously oversized, nearly as big as some Muggle homes. White and cream colored marble covered the walls and floors. Various carefully woven rugs and pieces of furniture that surpassed the quality of those in Dumbledore's office covered the floor. Behind a desk at the back of the oversized office was seated a Goblin. He looked similar to any other Goblin but held an air of superiority over the rest. Whether it was intentional arrogance or simply created over many years in the job, Harry couldn't tell.

Fleur approached the table and bowed. "Sir, Mr. 'Arry Potter is 'ere."

Harry, awkwardly, stepped forward and bowed, copying Fleur's actions.

"Mr. Potter," the head Goblin surveyed him. "Take a seat. We have a limited amount of time."

Unnerved at the intensity of the Goblin's gaze, Harry took several moments to follow Fleur to sit on a couch that had materialized since their entrance. He didn't bother attempting to figure out how it'd appeared.

"Mr. Potter," the head Goblin said again. "It has been brought to my attention that you, an orphan of sixteen years, have not been notified of your parents' last will and testament."

Fleur gave him a slight nudge in the side. "Er, that is true, sir."

"Furthermore, your knowledge of the laws in this matter is non-existent."

"Er, yes, sir."

"Miss Delacour has informed me you wish her to be present for the duration of our meeting?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said with far more confidence. "I trust her to give me aid."

"Indeed."

The head Goblin examined Harry and then Fleur for a long moment. Harry felt out of his depth. Had he said something?

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter wrote their will several months before they passed, on 31st October 1981." Ragnok explained, riffling through a few papers on his desk. "Their will delivered sums of money to Remus John Lupin, Sirius Orion Black, Molly and Arthur Weasley and Anna Louise Bones, who unfortunately passed on before the will was enacted." Harry nodded, understanding what he had been told so far.

"I have a copy of the will here for you," Ragnok pointed to a folder in front of him. There were another dozen or so on the table in a pile. "However, there has been a complication."

"A complication?" asked Fleur.

"Yes, someone has removed a passage from the will," said Ragnok. Harry didn't miss the dark undertones in the Goblins' voice. "We do not know who has done such a thing and when, not if, _when_ that person is captured, the repercussions will be very severe."

Harry clenched his fist. Could, for one moment, someone not interfere with him? Couldn't he just learn something about his parents without it being tainted by someone else's influence?

"_The will shall only bring you pain. It is best for you not to read it."_

Was Dumbledore aware of the missing passage? Was that why he wasn't encouraged to read his parents' will?

"On behalf of Gringotts, I apologize. This slight against us was only discovered yesterday. An investigation is already underway as to who tampered with the will."

"Good." Harry said shortly. The head Goblin grinned, revealing two rows of frightening white, sharp teeth. Harry tried not to show how intimidated he felt – the Goblin had it down perfectly.

"In the meantime, I wish to address another matter," the head Goblin said, closing one folder and picking another one seemingly at random from the pile on his desk. "You were named in the will of one Sirius Orion Black."

Harry's mind shut down temporarily. He hadn't even given a thought to Sirius in days, let alone about a will. But didn't Dumbledore…

"Professor Dumbledore told me I inherited one of Sirius' properties more than a month ago, and the house-elf there." Harry said confusedly.

The head Goblin ceased his examination of Sirius's file. "Did he now? Mr. Dumbledore shows a lack of respect for the boundaries set by us. He must have a very good reason to preempt our involvement."

_He needed a place for the Order of the Phoenix to use._ Harry mused.

"The will of Sirius Orion Black will be read in an hour in one of our conference rooms."

Harry shot Fleur a startled look. She never mentioned a will reading.

"'ow long will ze reading take?" asked Fleur, checking a pocketwatch Harry hadn't ever seen her use before.

"Not long, Miss Delacour," the head Goblin promised. He closed the second folder and examined Harry again. "While you wait, you can examine your parents will, Mr. Potter. Miss Delacour should be able to field any questions. Let me know if you have any questions."

The head Goblin spoke something harsh in a tongue unfamiliar to Harry. Two other Goblins appeared by his side within seconds and escorted him out of the office.

Harry didn't know what to say. This entire situation was beyond his familiarity with the wizarding world.

"'Arry, would you like to read your parents will?"

Fleur the document in her hand, extended in offering. Harry took it and began reading without a word.

Aside from what was given to Anna Bones, who Harry assumed was Susan's mother, Professor Lupin, Sirius, and the Weasleys, there was mentioned of Peter Pettigrew. He was among the recipients. However, given his apparent death shortly afterwards, he likely never received a cent. Yet, the thought of Pettigrew receiving a cent of the Potters money alone made him angrier than he'd been in months. It took several long moments of deep breathing to calm himself and read further.

The amounts each was given was on a different document that Fleur supplied on request.

"Professor Lupin was given one hundred thousand galleons?" said Harry incredulously. "I don't understand. He's always said he was poor."

"'Arry, the Ministry of Magic looks down upon werewolves." Fleur patiently explained as she turned on the couch to face him properly. "There are laws preventing werewolves, and other part-humans, becoming recipients of monies in wills."

"I don't understand." Harry said again. "That law makes no sense. How can people think its right?"

"Most don't, 'Arry." Fleur said softly. "People like Dolores Umbrdige prevent these laws being retracted." Fleur was sporting an expression of revulsion at the familiar name.

"She is exactly right, Mr. Potter."

The head Goblin stood at the doorway again, presenting a short, yet still daunting figure. "Mr. Lupin has not received any of what has been left to him. Furthermore, he was been named in Mr. Black's will. The laws haven't changed since your parents passed, and the same will occur again."

"That's wrong." Harry shook his head.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," the head Goblin said. He crossed the office to reclaim his seat. "Goblins have no say in such matters, despite what the Ministry may claim. It's all in the small print, Mr. Potter. Always read the small print."

Harry resumed his examination of the will. A similar amount was given to Sirius and Anna Bones. Considerable less was given to the Weasleys, but twenty-thousand was still a mind-boggling amount for Harry. This confused him more. The Weasleys were poor. Where could twenty-thousand galleons have disappeared to?

"Mr. Black's vaults have been untouched since the night Mr. Black was taken into custody," the head Goblin announced, having resumed his own examination of his records. "There is currently no rightful heir to the Black name."

Harry was barely listening, which only later struck him as being disrespectful. However, he was too preoccupied with what he'd just read. Lily and James Potter left everything else to him. The amount of which was staggering.

"Is this correct?" asked Harry, giving Fleur a quick glance. "At the moment, is there more than a million galleons in the Potters vault?"

Fleur smiled at him. "Oui. I told you ze Potters weren't poor."

"There is more than that, Mr. Potter," the head Goblin said, teeth bared again. "Heirlooms and other items of the sort in your vaults are worth approximately the same amount."

Harry didn't notice Fleur's look of surprise and amazement for he was rather busy trying to comprehend what he'd just been told. He had two million galleons, essentially, and he'd been forced to live with the Dursleys?

The head Goblin continued, seemingly enjoying the reaction. "No doubt Mr. Blacks' will shall provide you with more."

The next ten minutes passed with Harry reading the remainder of his parents will. He'd learnt a little from it, like his parents were friends with Susan's family.

However, the passage, several lines long, that had been removed troubled him. Instinct told him that it was important, something that he needed to know. Neither Fleur nor the head Goblin knew what it read.

The head Goblin examined a timepiece. "There is another half an hour before the reading. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Harry looked at Fleur for guidance.

"Alternative ways of withdrawing money," she suggested.

The head Goblin produced a small, brown pouch. It was unremarkable in appearance, but Harry had learnt enough to not judge a book by its cover. "For a small price, you may remove money from your account directly."

"What's the price?" asked Harry, somewhat wary.

The head Goblin grinned again. "Ten galleons per month."

"That'll be perfect, then." Harry replied. If what he expected to come to pass came to pass, that would make life considerably easier.

It took a few moments to sort through things – for instance, his blood was required to protect the pouch from thieves. Harry briefly considered asking what happened to those who tried to steal from the pouch, but remembering their glee at those who became trapped in the vault doors, he chose not to. Eventually, Harry was now a proud owner of one of small pouches.

"I now have other business to attend to," the head Goblin announced. "Miss Delacour knows where the conference room is."

"Thank you, sir." Harry said, and bowed again, uncertain what to do. Fleur did the same and the pair left.

"You are an interesting young man, 'Arry." Fleur said once they were alone in the corridor again.

"What do you mean?"

"Most wizards treat Goblins wiz disdain." Fleur said. She transfigured her robes back into her original attire. Harry was distracted for several moments as he not-so-subtlety looked at her. "You didn't."

"Fleur, I –"

"– Are you." Fleur interrupted putting a perfect digit on his lips and smiling at him. "That's what makes you so great."

Harry's heart skipped a little at the look she gave him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"What are you doing here, _Potter_?"

"Malfoy." Harry glowered at the sight of the pretentious blonde. Still, his reply came almost carefree. "I'm here for the reading of my Godfather's will. You?"

"Here to receive my inheritance from the Blacks." Malfoy replied smugly. "My mother was a Black before she married my father."

"How interesting." Harry said, his tone belying his real opinion. "What makes you believe Sirius left you anything? Sirius hated the Malfoys, in case that tidbit escaped your addled brain."

Malfoy's lip curled in a poor imitation of Snape. "We shall see, Potter." His attention turned to Fleur as she stepped up beside Harry. "Miss Delacour, a pleasure." He offered his hand.

Fleur didn't offer hers. "I remember you. Ze one who was transfigured into a ferret, non?"

Malfoy flushed at the memory. Across from him, Harry quietly snickered.

"You will pay for your tongue, you Veela _whore_."

Harry's attitude changed immediately. "You should walk away, Malfoy."

"Protecting that Veela whore are you, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "You can't even get Weaselette to touch you so you need this filth?"

Harry's hand twitched, resisting the urge to go for his wand. "You still haven't learnt by now that you are no match for me, have you Malfoy? Or maybe you have, and to compensate you act like a big shot when you're really just a spoilt brat."

Malfoy's hand reached for his pocket. "One more word, Potter," he seethed.

"Or what, Malfoy? You'll kill me? What makes you think you can when your master has failed time and time again?"

"Draco!" a commanding feminine voice cut through the air. The two feuding sixteen year olds turned to face the voice. Behind Draco, fast approaching, was his mother. Harry recognized the Malfoy matriarch from the Quidditch World Cup.

The younger Malfoy returned his glare to Harry.

Narcissa Malfoy grabbed her son's arm. "Don't you remember the laws here, Draco?" she hissed. "Don't make a scene."

Malfoy didn't remove his gaze from Harry, nor did Harry's leave Malfoy. For what seemed forever, the two of them stared each other down unflinchingly, until finally Malfoy looked away and walked off with his mother.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The confrontations between Malfoy and himself were getting worse and worse.

The two Malfoys took seats on the opposite side of the room. Fleur led Harry to a pair nearby. Avoiding looking at the Malfoys, Harry examined the room.

The conference room was large; large enough to accommodate plenty more than were to be present today. A plain conference table filled much of the room; a spot in the middle was left for the speaker to stand. On the walls were a few paintings, not of wizards but Goblins.

The doors to the room opened to reveal Lupin and an older woman Harry wasn't familiar with. Her face was kind, and the features somewhat familiar. The woman tripped not five steps into the room. Harry made the connection.

"Professor Lupin," greeted Harry, standing to shake his hand. "Long time no see."

"Harry." Lupin gave him a tired smile. He looked as worse for wear as he'd been the last time they'd spoken. His robes were tattered, and there was a deep scratch on his cheek. "Please, call me Remus. It's been three years since I've had that title. How are you keeping? Arthur has told me disturbing news about you and Ron."

A polite cough halted that line of questioning. Lupin grimaced slightly. "Oh, pardon my rudeness. This, Harry, is Andromeda Tonks."

"Mrs. Tonks." Harry shook her hand as well.

"Andromeda, please," she said. Her eyes gave him a once over. "So you're Lily and James son? It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Remus noticed the silent listener to their introductions still seated at the table. "Miss Delacour, I didn't know you were here today."

That initiated of another set of introductions for Fleur and Andromeda. Conversation drifted off from there.

A few minutes later the doors opened again, this time admitting a nondescript Goblin. The Goblin ignored everyone as he strode his way to the centre of the room. Harry retook his seat. Remus and Andromeda took seats beside him.

The Goblin, once ready, only then surveyed the members of the room, giving Fleur a slightly longer look than anyone else. A folder appeared before him and the Goblin perused it for several moments.

"Mr. Harry Potter, Mr. Remus Lupin, Mr. Draco Malfoy, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy and Mrs. Andromeda Tonks are all present and accounted for," the Goblin stated. For what purpose Harry couldn't tell. "I will now begin the reading of the will of Sirius Orion Black who passed on the night of June 18th 1996."

Fleur placed her right hand on Harry's left, which was resting on his leg. Harry shot her a questioning look only to receive a small smile back. He interlocked his fingers with hers and offered her a grateful smile.

"Mr. Remus Lupin," the Goblin announced. "Mr. Black leaves you fifty thousand galleons." Remus was impassive at this proclamation. "However, current laws prevent money from being passed on to werewolves."

Harry's hold on Fleur's hand tightened. The law made no sense, and the worst part was that chances of change were limited, especially with people like Umbridge employed in the Ministry.

"Additionally, there is a letter Mr. Black has left for you," the Goblin said, removing a letter from the folder and passing it on to Remus. He examined the letter, noting nothing except the name '_Remus Lupin_' on the front, and pocketed it.

"Miss Nymphadora Tonks is unavailable at this present time. Mrs. Andromeda Tonks acts as proxy for her daughter today. She is left fifty thousand galleons."

Andromeda received a couple pages of paperwork. Her eyes widened at the sum of money.

The Goblin moved on. "Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy." The woman in question perked up in interest, as did her son. "Mr. Black has left you fifty thousand galleons. However, there is a condition that you must fulfill prior to accessing this amount."

"Condition?" repeated Narcissa, her face twisted in confusion and disgust. "What condition?"

The Goblin uncaringly examined a document in his hands. "You must divorce your husband and sever all ties with him. The vault will not open to anyone except a Black."

"Outrageous!"

"If you do not meet this condition within six months, you will forfeit the amount and it will be left with Mr. Harry Potter."

"I must protest this!" Narcissa shouted, rising to her feet. "The will Sirius made left us with a larger amount with no restrictions."

The Goblin was as unfazed as ever, having probably seen similar scenes dozens of times. "Mr. Black edited his will several months prior to his death. Gringotts has verified the validity of the edits several times. There is no mistake."

Narcissa sat back down, shocked. To Harry, that explained how Malfoy thought he was getting money. How non-mysterious.

The Goblin perused the folder again. "From this point on, any Malfoys present are requested to leave the room."

The two Malfoys took a moment to react. The younger Malfoy was fuming. He gave Harry one last angry look before the mother and son left the room. 

"Mr. Harry Potter." Harry's attentions went back to the Goblin, who continued as if nothing had transpired. "All remaining possessions and money are left to you." 

Fleur's hand gripped him tighter.

"Furthermore, Mr. Black mentions that you can supply Mr. Lupin with his money by depositing his share into his account."

Harry hadn't even thought of Remus receiving his money another way. But that would work. Sirius was a good friend.

Remus was as impassive as he was earlier. Andromeda was alternating between watching him and staring at the documents she held for her daughter in amazement.

"This concludes the relevant sections of Mr. Blacks will," said the Goblin. He returned the will to the folder, and removed a dozen or so documents. "Any further questions are to be directed to the staff at the front desk. Mr. Potter, these are for you to examine."

With the will read, Andromeda quietly bade farewell, citing her work as the reason. Remus collected himself and showed her out. Harry sat with Fleur for several minutes.

It felt odd, listening to Sirius' will. Sirius had been dead for a few months now, and Harry knew that. Yet passing out his possessions created a little hole of loss.

Sensing his mood, Fleur didn't say anything but nonetheless hugged him. Harry would've been too flustered at any other time to properly appreciate the gesture, but he did now. His mind was a long way from how attractive Fleur was, and how good she felt against him.

"When you are ready, 'Arry, we are expected back with ze head Goblin." Fleur whispered. "Zen we must purchase your school supplies."

Harry took another minute and then stood up with Fleur beside him. He felt okay, considering. Remus was patiently waiting by the door for the two of them.

"I'll make certain you receive the fifty thousand galleons Sirius left you, er, Remus." Harry said a little awkwardly, unused to calling the man by his first name.

"Really, Harry, it's –"

Harry shook his head. "It's what Sirius wanted."

Remus looked ready to continue protesting but swallowed and let it go. "Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome."

"I believe I must be off now." Remus said, checking a watch. "Plenty of business to attend to these days, I'm sure you understand, Harry. Miss Delacour, Harry."

"Take care of yourself, Remus." Harry said, shaking hands once more. Remus nodded once and left.

"Let us move, 'Arry." Fleur urged. "We 'ave already used up half ze allotted time 'ere."

A few minutes later and the same three were seated in the same spots as before in the head Goblins office.

"We're both pressed for time," the head Goblin said. "I shall make this brief. Do you wish Miss Delacour to be present?"

"I do." Harry replied adamantly. "I trust her."

"Very well." The head Goblin grinned. "Mr. Black wished to make you the heir to the Black name."

Harry was speechless for a second time.

"If you so desire to, by being the last in the Black family line, you will automatically become a legal adult," the head Goblin said. "Additionally, you will have access to all of the Potter and Black possessions bequeathed to you. Finally, you will obtain the Black family chair in the Wizengamot. It is currently empty."

"Doesn't that mean I have two seats?" Harry asked, his mind latching onto something he could comprehend easily. "Is that possible, or, well, allowed?"

"Entirely so. However, laws dictate that a physical presence must be in each seat owned by someone." At Harry's blank stare, the head Goblin elaborated. "You can nominate someone to take one of the two seats."

Harry looked to Fleur. She smiled at him sweetly and gently placed an arm on his thigh. "I can not take zat spot, 'Arry. Only full humans, of age, are permitted."

"I see." Harry liked the Ministry less and less as the day went on. Not that he'd cared for it much before today.

"Hang on a moment," continued Harry, mind catching up. "I become a legal adult? I can cast magic outside of Hogwarts?" Oh, that would be useful…

"Indeed."

Harry grinned. The possibilities were nigh endless. This would make life much easier for him. But… "Is there a catch?"

"A catch, 'Arry?" repeated Fleur.

"Is there a price for become a legal adult early?" asked Harry. "Or in this manner?"

The head Goblin grinned his toothy grin. "You are learning, Mr. Potter. Let me ease your mind. Until nearly fifty years ago, there used to be marriage contracts and assorted debts carrying over onto the generations. These were abolished. There's no catch."

"Fleur?"

"As far as I'm aware, zere is nothing you need to worry about at zis time." Fleur replied. "Only ze usual things."

Harry wasn't quite sure what they were but he trusted her word. "I'll do it."

"Excellent, Mr. Potter," the head Goblin clasped his hands together. "Let me organize the paperwork for you."

Ten minutes later, Harry had signed half a dozen documents. The head Goblin mentioned that a department at the Ministry would be notified of this development.

"The paperwork will take a few hours on the Ministry end," the head Goblin said. "They prefer you wait until you receive notification of your legal adult status. Nevertheless, now that you've signed, you can start immediately if you wish."

Harry decided to wait until he was out of Gringotts before risking it.

"Thank you, Ragnok, for all your help today." Harry said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Mr. Potter," the head Goblin grinned once more. "Pleasure doing business with you."

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next half an hour was spent transferring his money between accounts. Remus' vault had to be upgraded to accommodate the influx of galleons and he was sent notice. Afterwards, Fleur rushed Harry from store to store, purchasing the items on the list. The last was Madam Malkins and his new robes.

Fleur assisted him here, Harry having no fashion sense to speak of. In all honesty, Harry didn't care what he got as long as there were robes that fit him. Still, he might as well get Fleur to help him decide. He'd only been here twice before to get standard school robes. While he was here, Harry figured he'd get all the robes he would need for the rest of his school years and other events likely to happen before the next two years were out.

A very stressful thirty minutes later, filled with pokes and prods from woman and pin alike, Harry emerged with a full set of new school, formal and casual robes. Unfortunately, they'd run overtime. Fleur already had no to cast a Patronus to send a message to Kingsley, letting him know their situation.

Harry tested out his new found freedom of magic by shrinking his packages and putting them in his pockets. He half expected to see an owl from the Underage office, but none ever came.

Fleur kept him entertained while he was a pincushion. He was surprised at how easily he was getting along with the older woman. It might have been much of their life spent as outcasts or unfairly and unjustly hated that created a connection, or simply the two of them were meant to have a friendship.

Diagon Alley remained more crowded than Harry expected through the lunch hours. Dozens of wizards and witches sat in booths of still open for business restaurants, and many more wandered the shops. It didn't feel like there was a war going on.

Nonetheless, it was an odd sight to see two people bickering. One was a tall, slim, blue-eyed blonde. Despite this, she was unappealing. The reason for that was the woman was Narcissa Malfoy. There was no chance he'd find her attractive, even if she did share basic features – hair and eye color, and build – as Fleur.

The other woman was a sight to cringe at. She was medium height, had a longer nose than Snape, with a boil or three on what skin could be seen beneath her robes, and dirty brown hair to her shoulders.

What was Narcissa Malfoy doing associating herself with someone she would normally consider beneath her? Harry would've been suspicious no matter who she was associating herself with, but this even more so.

A quick glance at Fleur showed that she'd seen them too. She didn't slow, however her right arm tensed, readying herself in case anything happened. A Silencing Charm prevented any snippets of the conversation being heard.

Harry tensed his own hand as the pair reached the two women. His instincts were screaming at him – fight or flight, but damn well make a choice now. The reaction only got worse once his back was turned to the two women.

"Fleur…" whispered Harry, barely audibly over the myriad of sounds surrounding them.

"Keep moving, 'Arry."

Seconds passed and it seemed as if nothing would indeed occur. Two shop fronts beyond the two women, Harry began to relax.

So of course, that's when things went to hell.

A scream was all the warning Harry received. It was that very scream that saved him. The moment he heard it, he'd hit the ground, turning, hand reaching for his wand. The first spell passed over his head, but the second was heading straight for him. A shield charm was on his lips. But his wand was tangled in his robes.

The spell collided with a shield, and Fleur stepped into Harry's vision, slightly in front of him. Not for the first time today, Harry was grateful she was here. Another pair of spells collided with the shield. It shattered under the weight, and Fleur took an involuntary step back. Harry's wand was in his hand and shielded the next pair.

"Fleur, you okay?"

"Oui." Fleur panted. She was unused to full combat, not to mention not truly expecting an attack in one of the more populated areas of wizarding Britain. "Her spells were stronger zan I expected."

The two women were standing beside each other. Narcissa was conversing with uglier one rapidly, her wand in her hand but not pointing at Harry. The attacker was the other woman, and there was murder in her eyes.

Around the group, people were fleeing. Had Harry not been entirely focused on the two women, he would've winced at how loud the fleeing wizards and witches were making.

"'Arry, we need to get you to out of here." Fleur hissed, her worry etched on her face. "Zat is most important."

Harry didn't argue. He took a step back. Then Silencing Charm broke.

"We're killing him now," the other woman said, and her voice sent shivers down Harry's spine. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

"_Accio bench_!"

A wooden bench from beside Harry flew in front of the Killing Curse, intercepting the spell. The bench broke, littering the ground before Harry with pieces.

"Fleur, come on!" Harry called to her. She'd panicked when the spell was cast, having never heard it in person before, and ducked to the ground. Fleur regained her feet, shakily, at Harry's called and raised her wand. "Don't let them scare you."

"The Dark Lord wants him alive, Bella," Narcissa yelled over the noise of the crowd.

_Bella? _That's_ Bellatrix?_

Another couple spells sped towards Harry, who summoned another object to take the hits. He took another several steps backwards. Fleur took a few more. 

"Potter," seethed Bella. "You're not escaping that easily." She took several large steps, and Narcissa followed suit, her wand trained on him. It seemed they'd sorted out their disagreement.

"Narcissa, Bellatrix," acknowledged Harry, thinking fast of a way to beat them both, or to escape. "Attacking me in the middle of Diagon Alley? Do you really believe that you're going to win and get away without being captured?"

They responded with a barrage of spells. He and Fleur managed to hold them off with their shields.

This didn't make sense. A Voldemort set up had more to it than a simple attack like this. Some were ingenious, some were simply insane, but this couldn't be a Voldemort plan, surely. That meant the pair were attacking alone.

Narcissa had motive. Having lost out on her money from the will, chances were she was displeased. But enough to attack him recklessly like this?

A Killing Curse shot towards Fleur, who barely managed to duck out of the way in her shaken state. Bella followed up with a different curse at Fleur – one that managed to break through Harry's shield and cut his shoulder.

The sudden pain caused Harry to flinch and nearly lose his footing. But he held fast and sent a pair of spells that were easily dealt with.

Harry spared a glance for Fleur. She looked pretty distressed. She was alert enough to defend herself, but this looked like her first full on fight. He reached down and grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet while firing another couple spells.

"Keep your wand on them," whispered Harry. "Walk backwards slowly enough to maintain accuracy. Move."

Fleur obeyed, and the pair slowly retreated. It took two steps before Bella, in her disguise, rushed forward, casting wildly, cackling like a madwoman.

"Oooh, is this Baby Potter's _girlfriend_?" taunted Bella in her baby voice. "I'm disappointed that even a half-blood such as you would stoop to _her_ level."

That was it. These two, and Malfoy earlier, insulted Fleur. She didn't deserve it and Harry wasn't going to stand for it.

Harry quickly scanned the surroundings. He found what he was looking for.

"Shield me." Harry ordered. Fleur complied, and a bunch of spells collided with it almost instantly.

Ducking slightly, Harry cast a pair of Summoning Charms. Two benches rocketed towards Harry, the first whacking both women in the back, knocking Narcissa off her feet and into a mess on the stone pathway, and striking Bella in the back of the head and face first into the ground. The second floated above the ground and Harry waited for the first to stir.

It was Bella. And she didn't see the second one either.

The second bench knocked her several feet forward, beside her sister. Narcissa, recovered at this time, shattered the bench and regained her feet almost instantly. Movements with her left arm were careful. It must've been hurt in her fall.

Bella was up again a couple seconds later. Her hair was more disheveled than ever, and her face was covered in blood from her nose and lip.

"Is that the best you've got, wee little Potter?" Bella cackled, wiping blood from her face, managing to smear far more of it across her cheeks.

Instead of responding, Harry cast a bone breaker in her direction, before casting a Protego to shield an incoming spell from Narcissa, who dodged past Fleur's, who was still shaken but recovering, unknown spell. She cast again and again, forcing Narcissa to back off. Her shield shattered under a barrage from an increasingly confident Fleur. Capitalizing on her chance, she struck home with a stunner.

Feeling elation at her success, she didn't notice the spell heading her way, or Harry until he knocked her aside and took the hit. She hit the ground, fumbled with her wand but got up a shield before she was attacked again.

But no attack came her way.

Harry's screams torn at her from the moment they hit her ears. It was the Cruciatus Curse.

Bella was cackling madly. "How gallant you are, Potter! Taking the hit for your girlfriend." She had a broken nose and blood was flowing freely but she took no notice.

Fleur's hand grew hot, her anger barely controllable. She didn't fight it, knowing full well what she was capable of when pushed.

Fleur was only a part-Veela and therefore unable to change into an avian form full Veela were capable of. But even without being able to change, Fleur had the ability to conjure flame when her emotions ran high. Most part-Veela did not even bother attempting to learn to control or harness this particular ability. It took Fleur two years to learn to be fully in control of her fireballs when pushed that far. After countless burns, repairs to her house and replanting trees that were burnt to cinders, Fleur was able to control her Veela power, though she was not able to use it as quickly and efficiently as a half or full Veela. This power is exactly what she used.

Her left arm tingled, her nerves reacting to her intent. The sounds of Harry's screams pushed her further. Her hand steadily grew hotter and hotter, past the level of heat that would have a normal person's skin blistering.

Bella didn't notice until it was too late. A large ball of flame, the largest Fleur had ever created, raged in her hand, and she threw it with everything she had.

The fire traveled faster than Bella could react. Her robes and hair ignited immediately, and it was Bella's turn to scream as the fire began blistering her skin, the unbearable heat too much for her.

She fled. Her screams quieted with distance. Several shouts could be heard from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the barkeeper likely just got a nasty surprise.

The threat neutralized, Fleur dropped to Harry's side, examining him. He'd been under for only ten or so seconds, but any amount of time was extremely painful.

Harry opened his eyes, and strongly winced at the pain in his body. The blonde felt his forehead. His skin was clammy to touch.

"Fleur," he panted out. "We need to go. Before the Aurors come." Fleur was about to ask why when he added two more words that would forever cause her to follow Harry anywhere. "Trust me."

Fleur lifted Harry up, pulling one of his arms over her shoulder, and half-dragged him to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the barkeeper was nowhere in sight. Fleur presumed he had followed the burning Bellatrix into Muggle London. She passed three stunned customers before stopping in front of the fire and was about to floo when Harry stopped her.

"Not Hogwarts," he managed to say. "Not the Burrow either."

"Why not?"

"Not safe." Harry replied adamantly, more strength in his voice. "Please."

"You cannot travel to my 'home via ze Floo." Fleur said, panicking. It was the only place she could think off the top of her head.

"Then let's Apparate," said Harry, nearly falling to the ground in the process. "Picture your house in your mind and look in me the eye." Fleur complied and felt Harry enter her mind briefly. By no means was he expert at Legilimens. Harry fumbled about in Fleur's mind before pulled out ungracefully, causing Fleur to stumble slightly and clutch her head for a moment. His right arm ached strongly.

"How do you Apparate?" asked Harry quietly, resisting the urge to groan in pain. He started for the doorway, ignoring the three wizards staring at him dumbstruck. He stumbled and Fleur caught him. "Do you just picture the place and will yourself to transport there?"

Fleur nodded. "Zat is a simplified version, oui." She opened the door to Muggle London and passed a shocked Tom the barkeep looking the other way, and entered an alley nearby. "You've never Apparated before, 'ow could you expect to travel all ze way to France in your condition?"

"I don't. You need to Side-Along me," Harry replied. "I'll try it but I doubt I can do it on my first try." The two of them heard several cracks nearby, outside the alley. The Aurors were here. "Time to go." Harry grabbed Fleur's hand and pictured the Delacour home in his mind.

"Three, two, one." Harry and Fleur turned on the spot, leaving no evidence to their existence except for two loud simultaneous cracks.


	8. Recover

A/N: Song title comes from the UK band 'The Automatic'.

As always, thanks to chem prof for his beta work, making this story far more readable than it would otherwise be.

_**Chapter 8: Recover**_

Harry felt like crap.

He had endured the Cruciatus before, a couple times within an hour, too, at the hand of Voldemort on the night of his return. Nevertheless, the spell was designed with one purpose and one purpose only – to cause immeasurable pain – and it was very, very effective and it.

Naturally, the more lengthy the exposure to the Unforgiveable, the greater the impact and required recovery time. After running on adrenaline for much of the evening in the graveyard, Harry had crashed following his confrontation with Barty Crouch Jr. It had taken forty-eight hours to properly recover. While his exposure today had been on a lesser scale, it still left him sore and drained nonetheless.

Then there was the fact that he had Apparated, for the first ever time, across the English Channel. That in itself was a respectable accomplishment. When coupled with a passenger, even more so, and after exposure to the Cruciatus Curse, again even more so. Consequently, the entire experience led to Harry collapsing from exhaustion upon appearing in Fleur's expansive, exquisite front garden.

A moment after arrival, Fleur was on the grass beside Harry. He could feel her delicate, but firm hands lift his head into her lap.

"'Arry." Fleur breathed, voice filled with immense concern.

"That was… exhausting." Harry said between heavy breaths. "Think you can help me up?" He tried to sit up, but his head swam and vision clouded over. Groaning, he laid back and stared into Fleur's azure eyes. They were rather captivating. But his body wasn't going to last long enough to enjoy the view.

"Don't tell anyone I'm here," he said, followed by unconsciousness claiming him. Fleur called his name a few times, but garnered no response. She cursed in French at being helpless to do anything, again.

She bent over and checked his breathing. It was clearer than it had been a few minutes ago, but still laboured.

_He's alive. He's just exhausted. He'll be fine._

Fleur cursed again. Harry had taken the Cruciatus Curse that was meant for her. It should've been her on the ground unconscious, not Harry. Guilt threatened to overcome her but she swallowed it and clamped down on her emotions.

_There'll be time for that later,_ she chastised herself. _Get him help first._

It took some effort, but Fleur, filled with resolved to make certain the young man under her watch recovered properly, managed to pick up Harry. He was lighter than she expected. She could feel bones through his clothing easier than she should have been able to for some his age.

Those thoughts distracted her long enough to carry Harry the hundred meters or so up to the front doors of the Delacours' mansion. Their home was large by anyone's standards. The entire property was approximately two kilometres square, all heavily protected courtesy of the French Ministry of Magic's finest. The grounds were carefully maintained, mostly by magic, and the lush green fields and gardens were truly a wonderful sight.

Magic noted her arrival, and intricately crafted wooden doors opened as Fleur climbed a couple of stairs leading to the front veranda. The entrance hall was large enough to hold a hundred people comfortably. There were two staircases leading to a second floor in both far corners of the room, doorways to living rooms on either side of the hall, and an elaborate chandelier in the centre of the room.

"Mama! Papa!" Fleur called desperately, switching back to her native language. Her parents were both competent at speaking English, but Fleur and her parents were more comfortable speaking in French.

Several long moments passed before the sound of hurried footfalls hit Fleur's ears. A tall, slightly rotund man emerged from a living room on her left. At just over forty years, Henri Delacour was beginning to age, but maintained some of his youthful energy and exuberance.

"Fleur?" Henri caught sight of his dishevelled daughter, and then young man in her arms. His heart sped up, thinking of what could have happened. "Fleur, what was happened?"

"Papa, we were attacked in Diagon Alley." Fleur hurried explained. Harry's weight began to burden her and so she strode towards the staircases. Henri followed close behind. "We need somewhere to take care of Harry." Fleur hesitated a moment on the stairs. Henri drew up behind her, curious.

"Nobody outside this house can know we are here, Papa."

Henri raised his eyebrows at his daughter's no-nonsense tone. She had only ever used that tone a handful of times in her life, and he knew better than to oppose it without more information.

Fleur took off again, turned to the right and entered her room a moment later. The room was decorated with a heavy emphasis on the colour burgundy. The king size bed directly across from the door was made with burgundy wood, coloured sheets and pillows. A chifferobe was on Fleur's immediate right, and a dresser and study desk on the left walls. She lay Harry down on her bed, explaining to her father the remainder of the story.

"This boy is _the_ Harry Potter?" asked Henri, with a certain amount of curiosity. Very few European wizards didn't know the name Harry Potter and the story that went hand in hand.

"Yes, Papa," replied Fleur curtly. "He gets enough people staring mindlessly at him in Britain. Try and restrain yourself."

Having known his wife for twenty years, Henri knew when not to talk about to an upset part-Veela. He learnt that lesson the hard way in his youth.

"Where's Mama?" Fleur asked, shuffling pillows on her bed in an effort to make Harry more comfortable. "I need a pain relieving potion now." Fleur paused for a moment, then added, "And a dreamless sleep potion if we have any."

Henri nodded and rushed off to get the potions and his wife, Anastasia. On his way, he passed by his youngest daughter's room. "Gabrielle?" he knocked quietly, opening the door a crack.

"Yes, Papa?" came the small voice of his ten year old daughter.

Gabrielle Delacour had not changed dramatically over the past year and a half. She was slightly taller, her hair more silvery and an inch or two longer. Henri inwardly sighed, knowing full well that after the next year or two his daughter would reach the age where she would begin a rapid change in appearance. It was another trait passed on through to any Veela, quarter or otherwise. Children grew too quickly as it was.

"Don't go into Fleur's room unless she tells you." Henri warned, putting aside his thoughts.

"Yes, Papa," Gabrielle sighed. Henri hesitated at his daughters' tone. He often wondered what his youngest daughter thought of the man in her sister's life. His mind drifted back to Fleur and remembered what he had been asked to do.

Not willing to risk an argument with an already distressed Fleur, he closed the door and moved at a half jog down the hallway.

Back in the bedroom, Gabrielle stopped reading and glanced out her window.

_I suppose that red-headed Englishman is here again._ Gabrielle sighed.

-x-x-x-x-x-

With a few flicks of her wand, Fleur emptied Harry's robes of his shrunken shopping items, wand and other various knick knacks and set them on a chair in the corner of the room. Another flick removed Harry's robe, which was neatly folded onto the same chair.

Underneath the robes, Harry wore the standard black long pants and white buttoned shirt worn by all Hogwarts students. Around his neck was a red and gold tie she had never seen before. Then again, she had never seen Harry in anything besides robes and a few of his oversized regular clothes during the summer. Nevertheless, it was prompted removed, along with Harry's shoes and socks.

Harry lay still, quietly breathing, and Fleur, after watching him for a moment, couldn't honestly tell if he was unconscious or had fallen asleep. Nevertheless, he would wake soon from the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. Sleep deprivation was a side-effect of exposure.

Taking a few steps back and standing beside her chifferobe, Fleur crossed her arms and waited.

She felt horrible. She'd told Kingsley that the two of them would be another half hour in Madam Malkin's and would head straight back to the Leaky Cauldron. She'd told him to not worry. He was safe with her. But the moment she was in charge, the two of them were attacked and Harry was subjected to the Cruciatus Curse.

She had panicked. She was completely unprepared for an attack in the middle of Britain's major wizarding shopping district, and completely unprepared to deal with Death Eaters who would cast Unforgiveables without batting an eye.

A slight scowl crossed her face, more at herself than anything. Inwardly, Fleur was now cursing herself.

At Beauxbatons, duelling classes were a cinch to her. The knowledge that it was all just a contest with rules and restrictions made it far easier to be confident than in real life. Real life offered no such comforts. One mistake and you could very well end up dead.

For the Order of the Phoenix, Fleur served primarily as an information gatherer. Despite her reluctance, she had occasionally used her Veela influence to coerce the subject into giving up certain information. Then all it took was a Memory Charm so the victim would be none the wiser unless a powerful Legilimens was intentionally searching for it. She wasn't half bad at those.

This was the second time Fleur had been forced to duel, and what happened on both occasions wasn't something she found herself proud of.

Fleur froze on the battlefield. She was well aware the stakes were higher now. While for some that compelled people to move, to stay ahead of their opponents, for others like Fleur, they froze. The only reason she remained unharmed the first time was because of her backup, a middle-aged witch by the name of Emmeline Vance.

And now she had frozen again. And it had cost Harry significant pain.

It was another couple minutes before Fleur heard another sound besides Harry's and her own breathing.

"Mama," Fleur said softly, uncrossing her arms as her mother entered her room.

Anastasia Delacour was gorgeous. Her was was adorned with aristocratic features, with the same azure eyes as her daughter. Trademark Veela silvery-blonde hair fell to her waist. Her body resembled someone in their early twenties, not forty. It was a fortunate side-effect of her Veela heritage.

"Fleur, dear, what's this Henri says about you being attacked?" asked Anastasia, wrapping her daughter in an embrace.

"I'm fine, Mama." Fleur replied with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Anastasia noticed but spoke nothing of it.

"Fleur's fine, Ana. It's Mr. Potter that needs assistance." Henri stepped into the room, carrying a handful of potions.

Anastasia checked her daughter briefly before turning her attentions to their unexpected guest. "Pass me the pain relieving potion, Henri," Anastasia ordered. Her entire demeanour quickly changed now that she knew her daughter was all right.

Henri passed his wife a flask filled with a dark purple potion from one his pockets and said, "He was hit with the Cruciatus Curse." Anastasia looked between her husband and daughter, shocked.

"I see." Anastasia said. She drew her wand and cast a few diagnostic spells. "How long?"

"At least ten seconds," Fleur replied immediately, watching her mothers' movements carefully. The room was silent for several long moments.

Anastasia sighed and turned to her daughter. "He's going to be in pain for a considerable portion of the next day, maybe slightly more, and the sleep deprivation will only compound the length of recovery."

"Is there nothing we can do?" asked Henri. He lifted one of the vials of Pain Relieving Potions. "Should we wake him? To give him the potions?"

"No." Anastasia shook her head. "The Cruciatus Curse is highly resistant to all forms of magic. I doubt even twenty of the potions will be able to completely relieve the pain, if one could stomach that much without consequence. This is terrible magic. He's best left to enjoy whatever serenity can be found in unconsciousness, for the waking world won't be pleasant."

Fleur swallowed that piece of information and fell into her thoughts. Henri set down the potions on Fleur's bedside table but did little else. Neither Anastasia nor Henri bothered her for several minutes.

Then Henri asked the inevitable question. "Why can't we let anyone know he's here?"

"We were attacked, Papa," Fleur patiently explained. "One of the attackers escaped and might still be a threat. The Death Eaters will know that Harry is hurt. It is best for him to be out of sight until he recovers."

Henri nodded in agreement. "I understand the logic, Fleur. But why here?" Seeing Fleur's expression he backtracked, "Not that I mind, but why _here_ of all places? We've never met him, nor had any contact with him."

Fleur softened her expression. It was a legitimate question. "Harry asked to come here."

"What about the Weasleys?" Anastasia countered, curious herself. "Aren't they very friendly with Mr. Potter? You said he was there most of the summer."

"I suggested that, but he said no." Fleur didn't know why Harry had refused the Weasleys' house as refuse anymore than her parents. "There was no time for argument. Perhaps it would be too obvious."

"And Hogwarts?" asked Henri.

"Harry says there are Death Eaters at Hogwarts." Fleur replied stoically. "It would not be safe."

"Death Eaters?" Henri repeated. "Under Albus Dumbledore's nose?"

Fleur scowled at the sceptical tone in her father's voice. "He has not yet lied to me. I see no reason to distrust this claim any more than any other he has made."

A moment passed.

"Alright then," Anastasia said. "He can stay till he recovers. Any friend of yours is welcome."

Fleur's faced filled with happiness. "Thank you, Mama, Papa!" she hugged both of them. "Remember, nobody can know. Even if you're asked directly, lie. I owe him this, at least."

Fleur's parents exchanged a look and nodded to their daughter. Their other questions could wait until later.

"Call us when he wakes." Anastasia said, and then left the room with her husband. Fleur followed them to the door and closed it with a click. She cast a Silencing Charm on the door and slumped to the floor beside her bed.

She looked up at the deceptively peaceful looking young man on her bed. He'd be in pain again soon enough.

_Am I really cut out for this? I keep freezing… All this fighting, seeing injured friends, death… I may have graduated, but I really don't know how to deal with real life and death duels. If this is what happens when I am in charge of someone's safety, how can I possibly be of any use to the Order, Harry or Bill?_

Tears of frustration and guilt threatened to be released. She grabbed onto the edge of her sheets and tried to hold them back. Harry had been hurt on her watch. How could she honestly hope to help him?

A groan from the bed startled Fleur out of her downward spiral into depression. Her bed cover ruffled with movement. She heard a grunt of pain.

Fleur wiped her eyes and looked up on the bed. Harry had sat up slightly and was facing her. His glasses were askew, but his eyes were open and staring at her.

"Fleur?" he whispered, wincing at an aching pain in his leg. "You okay?"

"You idiot, 'Arry!" Fleur yelled, switching back to English. "Why did you take zat curse for me?" Her eyes started watering again. She brushed her eyes, irritated at herself.

_Merde, I'm __nineteen__ and I'm acting like a damn child._

"Not so loud," replied Harry. He visibly winced at an ache in his arm. "I wasn't thinking. Spur of the moment."

"I'm so sorry, 'Arry." Fleur latched onto one of his hands. "I was supposed to be protecting you, not ze ozzer way around."

"It's alright," Harry whispered. He winced again as more aches made their presence known. "Dear God that's annoying," he said disdainfully. He turned back to Fleur. "I couldn't do a thing without help the first half dozen times I wound up in a battle. It wasn't until last year I was able to start to hold my own." Harry shrugged gingerly. "It takes a bit of getting used to."

"I won't let this happen again." Fleur swore. And she meant it. She wouldn't, _couldn't _let this happen again. Next time her mistake might cost her, or Harry, much more.

"That's great." Harry smiled at her, though it was disrupted due to another wince. "If you don't mind passing that pain relieving potion from the desk…"

Fleur got on her knees and passed across one of the vials of said potion.

"Thanks." Harry said, unstopping the cork and swallowing contents. "Gah. Horrible as always. I know it won't help much but it's better than nothing." Slughorn's lessons were useful after all. 

Harry closed his eyes and let the potion work its magic. Fleur did not disturb him.

After several minutes, Harry opened his eyes. He already felt slightly better, though the aches were still distractingly painful.

"Nobody knows I'm here?"

"Oui. Just my parents and probably Gabrielle."

"Good." Harry replied tiredly. He yawned and winced again.

Fleur grew pensive. She gathered her courage and asked, "'Arry, why did you ask to come 'ere and not to ze Burrow?"

Harry's expression darkened ever so slightly for several moments. "Has anyone told you anything about Ron in the last week?" he eventually asked.

"Non, I 'aven't 'eard anyzing." Fleur shook her head. "I wasn't aware you required replacement possessions until last night."

"You remember mentioning how Hermione and I weren't as close?"

"Oui," she replied, curious to where this was going. Those two other Gryffindors had mentioned that Ron and Hermione were dating now.

Harry took a breath and licked his dry lips. "Ron and Hermione were going out. Ron tried to force her to kiss him when she hesitated and she broke it off. He completely destroyed our dorm room, beds and belongings. He stole my Invisibility Cloak and went off to find Hermione."

Fleur was surprised at the behaviour of the youngest Weasley male. She wasn't particularly fond of the kid, nor she didn't claim to know him, but this wasn't something she believed he was capable of. He was harmless, drooling, somewhat rude and disgusting. But not this.

"I have a map of the school." Harry moved one of his arms to his pocket, only just noticing he wasn't wearing his robes. He looked around frantically for it. "Did you take off my robe?" Fleur nodded confusedly in confirmation. Harry noticed the chair with his belongings. "Did you find a parchment in a pocket?"

"Oui," Fleur nodded. She stood up and crossed the room to the chair. She returned with the Marauder's Map in hand after a moment of searching.

Harry sat up in bed, wincing again in the process. Fleur stood up, picked up a pillow and put it between his back and the headboard. Harry shuffled over a bit, winced and offered the other side of the king size bed to Fleur. She prompted lay down beside Harry, her head one of her pillows beside Harry's right shoulder.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Harry muttered, taping it with his finger. Ink seemed to spurt from his finger, which quickly, purposefully filled up the page. Fleur looked in wonder at nametags of students wandering about the castle. Most of the students were still outside on the late Saturday afternoon, except for Hermione who was mysteriously in Dumbledore's office. It was only then Harry thought about those back at Hogwarts.

"Do you have an owl I can borrow?" asked Harry, turning to Fleur. Not expecting her to be as close as she was, he jumped a little, compounded by a painful ache in his left arm, that was holding him up, and nearly fell. Fleur grabbed onto his white, buttoned shirt and pulled him back upright.

She smiled amusedly and Harry resisted the urge to blush. Fleur righted Harry and then retrieved a quill and some parchment from her desk.

Harry scribbled a quick note to Hermione. He was fine, but couldn't say where he was, and he'd return in a few days.

"I'll return to London and send the letter soon." Fleur said after Harry was finished.

"Thank you, Fleur." Harry said sincerely. "For everything."

"You're welcome." Fleur smiled, and it reached her eyes. She felt considerably better than she did half an hour ago.

Then she remembered what they were talking about and her smile dropped. Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines as his expression returned to that slightly darkened expression again. She returned to her spot beside him on the bed.

"I used this map to find Ron before he found Hermione. He never said what he intended to do, but we have our suspicions," Harry finished bitterly. "We're not friends anymore."

"Oh, 'Arry," Fleur whispered, her earlier disbelief multiplied.

"It's okay," said Harry softly. "I feel like some part of the puzzle is missing. However, that may be hoping that Ron isn't that kind of person. I never believed it to be, but he's never acted that way before."

"At least nobody was 'urt, oui?"

Harry nodded. Fleur let the new silence continue for a moment.

"I must inform my parents that you are awake. I'll be back soon."

Harry shuffled back down the bed, making an absolutely wreck of the covers. He was still exhausted. Fleur helped him get comfortable before leaving.

As soon as she left, Harry let out a groan. Madam Pomfrey had kept him asleep as much as she could the last time he'd experienced the Cruciatus so he had essentially missed most of the pain in the aftermath of the curse. This time he had no such luxury.

Aches and pains were everywhere, and they showed little signs of slowing down any time soon. Progress was, literally, painfully slow. Then, the potion was already losing its effectiveness. Fifteen minutes, tops.

He rolled onto his side again and curled up, closing his eyes. Every minute or so another part of his body would ache. He let out another groan after a particularly painful twinge. He was in for a long night.

Unbeknownst to Harry, Fleur had removed the Silencing Charm on the door as soon as she was outside. She had stayed for a moment, to make sure he was alright. She stood there for five minutes, hearing him occasionally groan in pain.

He hadn't blamed her. He said it was okay.

Fleur Delacour still felt guilty. She still blamed herself.

She was in for a long night.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Fifteen minutes later, Fleur returned with her parents. Their guest was sitting up in bed, having abandoned the idea of resting for the time being. The potion had fully worn off, and Harry was attempting Occlumency to drown out the pain. The aches, however, were maddening.

"Isn't there some way to stop the aching?" asked Harry. "I think I'm going to go insane."

"I'm afraid zere is no effective treatment to ease ze pain, Mr. Potter," replied Anastasia, who was sorting through a collection of potions Henri had brought in. "Ze best I can offer is ze dreamless sleep potion, which will provide a few hours of solace."

Harry sighed. "That'll do. Madame Pomfrey kept me asleep for most of the duration of the after-effects last time." He locked eyes with the two adults. "Thank you."

Anastasia and Henri shared a look and smiled. "You saved our daughter. It is ze least we could do."

"I'll take care of 'im," Fleur announced, giving her parents a 'no argument' expression. "Can we 'ave our dinner 'ere?"

"Oui. I'll start organizing it," Anastasia replied, and then proceeded to leave.

"If you need anything, ask," Henri told the two of them and then followed his wife's lead.

The two were alone again. An uneasy silence grew, until Harry spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Fleur."

"For what?" she asked confusedly.

"I've probably made you a target for Voldemort," he replied solemnly. "Bellatrix escaped, didn't she? She'll inform Voldemort you were with me. Now he'll know you're an ally. You'll be a target to get to me."

Fleur shook her head. "I became a target, 'Arry, when I joined ze Order and again when I joined your group. Zis changes nozzing."

Harry remembered Padma's similar statement from the other day. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve such trust and loyalty from these wonderful people, some he'd chosen on faith alone. Yet he'd heard several pledges to assist him, to follow him no matter what. All he could say was, "Thank you."

Fleur smiled and sat on the edge of her bed.

"This isn't quite what I'd pictured." Harry remarked a moment later. At Fleur's questioning glance, he elaborated. "This is the first time I've been in a girl's room. It's not pink and fluffy like my dorm mates have led me to believe."

"I've never been a fan of pink."

Harry examined the room again. "I'll take a stab and say burgundy is your favourite."

"Oui." Fleur smiled. "I'm honoured to be your first."

Harry blushed at the connotation. He received a laugh in response.

The two sat in silent in a moment, Harry again taking the room, attempting to ignore the aches and only partly succeeding. Fleur was watching and pondering the teen before her.

"I 'ave only had one ozzer male in 'ere." Fleur admitted.

"Bill."

"Oui."

Still somewhat disoriented, it took Harry several moments more to realise what that implied. Fleur's room, her bed, with Bill having been here before...

He knew what sex was, partly thanks to Seamus and Dean's ever riveting late night conversations. With everything that had occurred in his life at Hogwarts, the possibility of actually being near (let alone experiencing) sex had rarely crossed his mind. But Fleur and Bill were fully fledged adults, and the idea of being on the bed they'd slept in made him somewhat uncomfortable.

A laugh drew him out of his thoughts. "Do not feel uncomfortable, 'Arry. Bill and I 'ave not made love or anyzing else in this bed." She frowned by the surprised expression she received in response.

"You haven't?"

"Oui. We decided to wait till we are married."

Well, that was a half-truth in her case. Her heritage came at a price. Fleur had to make certain Bill wanted her for her, not for her body, as was generally the case. Bill was unaware of this. He probably wouldn't appreciate the lack of trust, but Fleur couldn't help it. From an early age her mother had drilled into her the importance of giving herself to only someone who would love her for who she was and not her looks. Some habits were hard to break and she didn't even want to break this one, having heard a hundred tales about such incidents.

Harry flushed, realizing he'd stuck his foot in his mouth. "I'm sorry; I don't know anything about relationships."

"You've never 'ad a girlfriend?" Fleur asked, as surprised as Harry was a moment before.

"Well, one, very briefly last year," Harry acquiesced. "It was a total disaster though." He spent the next ten minutes giving Fleur a cliff notes, and then, at her prodding, a full account of his and Cho's 'relationship'.

"She sounds very 'igh maintenance." Fleur shook her head. "'owever, she might not 'ave been ready to date again after Cedric. This Cho might not 'ave been over his death. I'd say it wasn't 'er fault ze relationship didn't work out. It couldn't 'ave worked in ze first place, at least so soon."

Harry pondered Fleur's words for a moment. It had only been a summer since Cedric's death. Maybe she hadn't been ready for a relationship after all? Maybe he had just been one of those 'rebound' people? Whatever the case, he had no feelings for the Ravenclaw anymore, he knew that much.

He sighed. Maybe he should have a chat with the girl sometime after he returned. Both sides were at fault, but it wouldn't hurt to be the first to apologize. It would take away the need to avoid each other constantly. That had gotten quite bothersome already.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Fleur said in a loud voice. Henri entered with a large tray with two plates which he placed on the bed in front of Fleur.

"Alright, 'Arry?" he asked. Harry nodded, and then grimaced. He was doing his best to hide how much pain he was in, in front of Fleur. "Gabrielle was asking for you, Fleur," Henri added before leaving. "I zink she zinks Bill is 'ere. I'll let you decide what to tell 'er."

With that, he quickly asked a few direct, clinical questions, no doubt originating from his wife, got an answer and left, closing the door behind him.

"Your mother," began Harry. Fleur was using her wand to levitate the trays in front of them. "She knows a lot about Healing."

Fleur took a bite of her meal. "My mozzer has a lot of free time now she no longer works as a model. She took a few courses, and then after a few years ago... Well, it became more important to her."

Harry glanced at Fleur side on and noted the darkened expression on her face. The urge to inquire to the event a few years ago was near overwhelming, however Harry reined it in. She'd talk about it if and when she wanted to.

"Has she changed at all?" Harry asked conversationally, carefully partaking in his meal so as not to spill anything. "Gabrielle."

"Non, still short and annoying, but what sister isn't?" replied Fleur. She was smiling, however.

Harry thought of Ron complaining about Ginny. "I suppose so," he picked a fork and began eating. The two chatted while they ate. Twice Harry dropped his fork when his arm suddenly ached on him. He refused Fleur's offer of feeding him. He wasn't _that_ handicapped.

The night passed both slowly and quickly. Fleur kept Harry distracted by talking about anything while lying on the bed beside him. She disappeared for half an hour with their dirty plates and returned with the news that Gabrielle knew he was here and wanted to see him. Harry grimaced and said he'd see her tomorrow, when he wasn't aching all over.

While Fleur had been gone, Harry had replayed the day in his mind. He was exhausted. Nevertheless, a few questions cropped up, that he asked on her return.

He discovered Fleur's house was connected to the Floo, but only the four family members were permitted access, due to an attack on the family several years ago during Henri's campaign for the French equivalent of the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry didn't press for details, and Fleur offered none. Despite the attack, or perhaps in spite of it, Henri was chosen for the position six months later.

Anastasia, on the other hand, had been pulling out of the model business for the two years prior to the attack, having grown tired of it. She retired immediately following the attack and, after several months, opened her own fashion line, but refused to work away from home. Her dedication to her children had been reinvigorating at their near miss, and Fleur claimed their home life was the most stable thing in her life.

As the night continued, Harry grew more exhausted and frustrated as the aches and pains ever so slowly died. Fleur noted this and eventually ordered him to retire and try regardless of the after-effects to sleep.

"'Arry, what's wrong?" Fleur asked seeing him sit up and start to get out of bed.

"I just remembered that this is your bed," Harry said over his shoulder. "I'm not letting you get kicked out of your bed for me. I'll take a guest room."

Fleur quickly walked around the bed and pushed Harry back down. "Non, ozzerwise I'd follow you. I'm staying wiz you in case you need anyzing during ze night."

Harry tried to get up again but was pushed down by Fleur a second time. From his laid down position, staring up at the part-Veela, he said, "Then I'll try and conjure a bed for myself. This is your bed after all; I'm not letting you sleep on the floor."

"I'm not letting you sleep on ze floor in your condition eizzer," Fleur replied steadfastly, crossing her arms defiantly.

A puzzled look crossed Harry's face. "Then how are we going to do this?"

"I'll be in ze same bed," Fleur announced. Harry tensed up and had to rein in his rapidly wandering mind.

"What about Bill?" he asked, worried that if Bill found out he'd be back in a hospital bed soon enough.

"What about 'im?" Fleur asked back, enjoying Harry's discomfort despite herself. "There are no sexual intentions involved... Or are zere?" She grinned at the furious blush that now graced Harry's features.

"Not that I'd do anything if there were." Harry muttered. "You're engaged."

Fleur cocked an eyebrow and uncrossed her arms. Curious as to the answer, she asked, "Does zat mean if I wasn't zen you would?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Come, on, 'Arry." Fleur chided, leaning over him and running a finger down his right cheek. "We're going to be sharing a bed, ze least you could be is honest for me."

Since Harry wasn't certain she was teasing, that put him in a tight situation. He slightly, almost imperceptibly, nodded his head. Quietly he said, "If I could get the courage, and knew that you liked me back."

That was good enough for Fleur. She stood back up, removed her finger and crossed the room so she was behind Harry, who had sat up again.

"Close your eyes, 'Arry. I'm going to get changed."

Harry continued to blush further. He tightly closed his eyes and put his hands over his face, just incase. Fleur laughed at his actions. She removed her jeans and shirt, removed her bra and put on a different top that she wore to bed.

"You can open your eyes now," Fleur announced. Harry, very slowly, took his hands away, turned around slightly and opened his eyes. They widened as they drunk in the sight of Fleur in nothing but a longish top that dropped to her thighs, leaving a lot of leg exposed, with very short sleeves. Harry immediately looked away and buried his face into the bed, the same blush causing his heart rate to double. Fleur laughed again.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Harry mumbled into the sheets.

"Oui," she replied, her pleasure evident in her voice. Fleur reached out and moved the sheets down, then climbed in. She grabbed her wand off her bedside table and transfigured Harry's school uniform into a shirt and pants more suited for bed. Harry fought the urge to look at her again. He had seen her in her current attire for only a second and the image was burned into the back of his irises. He knew she was beautiful, but never imagined seeing her like this.

He felt her hand on his side and tensed further. Another ache in his arm made him hiss suddenly.

"I trust you," Fleur whispered into his ear, surprising Harry at her closeness. "Zat is why I know I can sleep in ze same bed as you and know I'm safe. Ze same goes for my… attire." She added with a grin Harry could _feel_.

Slowly he managed to relax. He hadn't noticed how tense he had been since Gringotts. It all began to seep out of him as Fleur slowly pulled him into an embrace.

Hopefully her idea would work. Keeping Harry preoccupied with the sensations of close contact would hopefully reduce his awareness, and therefore reception, of the pain from the after-effects on the Cruciatus Curse. Using that same logic, she could have made love to him right there and then. Fleur, however, was engaged, like Harry had said. Besides, she believed neither of them would want their first this way.

Fleur shuffled closer until she felt Harry softly against her. She felt him tense again and then relax after he got used to the contact a few minutes later.

"Nobody has ever held me like this," Harry whispered after awhile. Fleur didn't answer. Instead, she held him closer. The aches continued to slowly die down as time passed in sometimes silence and sometimes idle chatter. Whether because he was healing or because of the physical contact with Fleur was diminishing his awareness, Harry didn't know or care. Unfortunately, he now had a _very_ attractive woman pressing her body against him which was causing other problems. He shifted uncomfortably, hoping Fleur wouldn't notice.

Very slowly, Harry began to drift off. Just the presence of Fleur, let alone her body pressed against him, was calming, knowing that she was taking care of him, except for one particular area. After awhile he could hear Fleur's rhythmic breathing against his back. One of her hands was draped across his side, laying to rest in front of him. He moved his own hand and grabbed hers, interlocking his fingers. Fleur made a noise in her sleep and unconsciously shuffled a little closer, pressing her body even more against Harry's back.

The Delacours only had the one dreamless sleep potion in the house, and Harry had been entirely ready to use it until Fleur had lain with him like this. There was still pain, but it was dulled by her presence. And now he didn't want to wake her to retrieve it. 

Ten minutes, then thirty passed. There were no noises heard in the Delacour mansion. Harry assumed Fleur had cast a silencing charm for privacy. He was glad, since this was one scene he didn't want anyone walking in on.

It took him far longer than normal to get to sleep. When Harry finally did, he didn't dream about Cedric or Sirius or Voldemort.

Instead, he dreamt of a large house in the country, where he stood in a garden, nothing too grandiose, but pretty nonetheless. He felt something he couldn't describe, something he hadn't felt in such a long time, perhaps not ever in living memory. For a moment, he wondered if it was love, until he was distracted when a presence appeared beside him. It was Fleur. She didn't say anything. She just smiled and held his hand. Harry just smiled at her in response. He was safe here. No Dark Lords, no pain. He was happy.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Fleur woke soon after dawn. She blinked her eyes a few times and noticed a few rays of morning sunshine passed through her drapes, sporadically lighting up the room. Normally Fleur was a morning person, however this morning she sighed in dissatisfaction with the early hour. Saturday had been a long, tiring, stressful day for her, though nothing compared to Harry's.

Speaking of Harry, Fleur became aware of his presence beside her. The two appeared to have moved little in their sleep, except that Harry had turned over, now facing her. Several minutes passed as Fleur simply watched him sleep.

The only other person she'd slept in the same bed with was Bill at his apartment in London, and he fidgeted in his sleep, more than once disturbing her in the process. Fleur loved the man; however some of his habits and idiosyncrasies bothered her. Harry, it appeared, moved precious little in his sleep, for he had not woken her at any point during the night. It was nice, to have a night of uninterrupted sleep with another person, even unromantically.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before Harry awoke. He groaned and rolled onto his back, stretching his legs out under the sheets and yawning.

"'ow iz ze pain, 'Arry?"

Harry started a little. He turned in Fleur's direction and blinked a few times. Fleur smiled a little at him, presuming he'd forgotten she was there.

"Okay, I think," replied Harry with a shrug. "We'll see when I try and move around a bit. For the moment, I'm simply tired."

"That's good news!" Fleur exclaimed, reaching out and giving him a half hug. Though in itself it made her feel guilty, her guilt lessened slightly with the news that he was, at least mostly, better.

Several moments passed until Harry made to sit up, ending Fleur's hug. He was a little embarrassed, having enjoyed the feeling of her in nothing but a t-shirt far too much, garnering a certain reaction. Trying to hide the reaction until it passed, he sat up, crossed his arms and leant on his knees.

Fleur sat up as well, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What iz wrong?"

"Nothing," replied Harry, shaking his head quickly. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"'as it started 'urting again?" she asked worriedly. Her response was another shake of the head. Fleur frowned in thought, wondering what could possibly be wrong with him. Then she realised.

"'Arry, zere is nozzing to be embarrassed over." Fleur said softly. "You have ze... morning problem, you call eet?" Harry remained unresponsive, trying to not give way to his surprise and embarrassment at being caught out.

"You said zis was your first time in ze same bed as anozzer…and ze first time someone 'as 'eld you. I am aware I am attractive. It is not unexpected, non?"

Harry didn't answer. Her forwardness was not new, however it was still disconcerting. Perhaps, he figured, she does it for a reason, to keep people off balance.

As the silence progressed, the pair went on to think over different things, enjoying a companionable silence. Harry eventually lay back down again when he was comfortable again and closed his eyes. Abruptly, as he replayed the previous day, he opened them again and turned to face Fleur.

"Hey, Fleur, I was the one that Apparated us both here wasn't I?"

"Oui," confirmed Fleur. "I was quite impressed. Few are capable of Apparating on zere first attempt, let alone crossing ze channel."

"Right," Harry replied, ignoring the praise. "Does that mean I could Apparate again if I tried?"

"I would assume so, 'Arry," Fleur answered, wondering what he was getting at.

"Can a British citizen get a French Apparition license, and would it apply everywhere?"

Then Fleur caught on to his idea. "You wish to acquire ze licence while in France to avoid dealing with your Ministry?"

"I hope to," he said. "That is, of course, dependent on whether Apparition licences are international or not. Now that I'm legally an adult I can apply, and it would be useful to have it under my belt and not worry about it for... later."

"I can ask Papa," replied Fleur thoughtfully. "My licence is acceptable worldwide; however I do not know whether a foreign citizen can take our test. Rest for now, and if it iz pozzible, I'll take you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Fleur."

-x-x-x-x-x-

An hour later the pair showered and dressed (or, in Harry's case, Fleur transfigured his clothes back to his white button shirt and black pants). Harry's body was stiff and ached intermittently, but he felt considerably better than the previous evening.

Henri and Anastasia appeared to have been patiently waiting as the pair was seated in the dining room downstairs when the two of them finally emerged. The four of them ate a late breakfast together and shared polite conversation. In hindsight, Harry believed Fleur manipulated the conversation in the direction of Henri's work at the Ministry and eventually to the topic of Apparition licences, only then politely and unobtrusively inquiring as to whether it were possible for Harry to acquire his in their country.

The meal finished shortly afterwards, and Henri left to make inquires at the Ministry. Anastasia left Fleur and Harry to their own devices, cautioning them to not do anything strenuous. Despite her renewed dedication, her mother, Fleur explained, let her do her own thing, firmly believing in Fleur's ability to make her own decisions and be responsible for her mistakes.

The pair spent the day exploring the Delacour property. Fleur acted as a particularly enthusiastic tour guide, relating story after story about her and Gabrielle playing together. Harry admired and envied the close relationship between the two sisters, despite nearly a decade separating the two. More than once he pondered whether or not his parents would've had a second child had things turned out differently.

Lunchtime arrived in no time at all, and the pair ate in the back garden, enjoying the sunshine. Gabrielle joined them for a short time. She spent most of the time talking rapidly in French and bouncing around Harry, hugging him a few times and generally acting like an excited, hyperactive child. She, however, soon tired herself out and went inside, leaving the two alone again.

Harry's respect for Henri and Anatasia Delacour steadily grew as Fleur continued to relate stories from her childhood and family history. Their family seemed so perfect, and Harry could not have been happier for her, given the challenges she faced in day-to-day life because of her heritage.

By evening, the day had become one the best in Harry's memory, and perhaps the best since prior to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, where everything had changed. There was nothing here, nothing but peace. It was something he knew he'd sorely miss as the shadow of the prophecy and what needed to be accomplished remained in the back of his mind.

Henri bore good news that night at dinner.

"Ze Minister 'as allowed you to take your Apparition test on Tuesday."

Harry, who had a fork halfway to his mouth, almost dropped it in surprise. "Seriously?"

Henri chuckled good-naturedly. "Seriously."

"Excellent!" Harry responded, grinning, leaning back into the comfortable chair. He knew next to nothing about the laws for the British Ministry let alone the French Ministry and so he wasn't expecting to be granted the opportunity to test.

"Zere is one condition 'owever," Henri added, immediately bringing Harry back to earth. "Ze Minister wishes to speak wiz you after your test. 'E said to consider ze favor returned if you met wiz 'im."

Harry sighed. Nothing came for free, it seemed. "I accept," he said, and offhandedly added, "It can't be worse than a meeting with Fudge."

The dinner continued onwards in a generally positive mood. Soon enough, the meal finished and the Delacour family minus Gabrielle, who returned to her room, retired to a lounge room.

Harry steadily became less involved in the conversation as the evening continued. The Delacour parents seemed to be wonderful people, however he grew tired and longed to be alone with Fleur again. Perhaps sensing this, Fleur soon bade goodnight to her parents and led Harry outside for a short stroll.

The garden was beautiful in the day time, and gorgeous in the evening. Fairy lights, the same type used during the Yule Ball, moved from garden bed to garden bed, sometimes following the pair and sometimes not.

"Ze world is no longer safe," remarked Fleur, staring into the night sky several minutes later. The two stood in front of one of the garden beds.

"It will be again," replied Harry, standing beside her, giving her a glance every now and then. "Darkness doesn't last forever, right? It comes and goes, just like the light."

"Non, 'Arry, it does not." Fleur said softly. "You are wise for your age, 'Arry."

Harry grimaced. "I had to grow up quickly."

"Will we survive?"

"There's no correct answer for that."

Fleur shook her head hard, silvery blonde hair flailing everywhere, reflecting magically in the bathe of moonlight. "You may be wise but you lack tact."

"I have my own strange sense of humour," Harry replied with a shrug. He grinned slightly at Fleur, who turned her head with her own smile on her face.

"Do you remember what I said zat time over ze summer?" Fleur asked, turning to face Harry properly and meeting his eyes. He looked at her, and really _looked_. She was slightly taller than him still, wearing a different pair of jeans and a white top. She was beautiful, plain and simple, when dressed up or not at all.

Harry nodded, now facing her properly. That one line had kept his mind occupied for much of the following week.

"I meant it," whispered Fleur. Harry's heart skipped a beat. Several fairy lights flew by, one lingering around Harry's head for a moment before rejoining the rest, dancing over the flowers in the garden bed to the side.

"Bill…" Harry started, and then trailed off. What was he going to say? Say that she was engaged to him already? They both knew that. She could just be saying that she liked him, but she was in _love_ with Bill. Either way, it was impossible. He didn't, couldn't say anything.

Neither did Fleur. Her captivating blue eyes reflected in the light given off by the fairies at Harry, adding to the wondrous picture before him. Harry didn't have the energy to bring himself to look away. But he did have the energy to gather the courage to take a step closer.

A cold, strong breeze blew from behind Harry at that moment, catching him off guard and knocking him off balance slightly. He took a step forward to balance himself. Fleur reached out and steadied him at the same time, her slim hands tightly holding onto his arms. Harry looked sheepishly into the older woman's eyes.

"Fleur!" Gabrielle's voice cut through the near silence. Fleur quickly released Harry, and both looked away, the moment gone.

"Coming!" Fleur called back. "I'll go see what she wants," she added to Harry. Harry nodded and watched her go. He was still staring after her even after she'd disappeared from view.

_What in the name of God was that?_ He asked himself. _It felt like we were going too…felt like it was…right…_

Harry sat down on in the middle of the garden, mind furiously debating over what had just happened. He didn't notice when Fleur returned fifteen minutes later and sat beside him, watching him curiously, until she put a hand through his hair.

"It really is untamable, non?" she asked softly.

"You've seen it in the morning; this is it at its best," replied Harry, unconsciously leaning into the touch. Before yesterday, the most intimate contact he had ever had was either when he was sitting with Padma a week ago, when she hugged him, both of which felt like months ago now, or when Hermione had first hugged him before he went forward through the ring of fire.

Fleur chuckled. "I wonder 'ow many women can claim to know ze state of your 'air in ze morning." Harry resisted the urge to blush, concentrating on the feeling of Fleur's hand.

"You and Hermione," was the honest response. "She had a habit of waking Ron and me up early at the Burrow." Regardless of how much he wanted to forget Ron, he had been a part of his life for five years. A lot of his best memories had him there. Would they be tainted forever because of him?

Fleur seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "We, and your other friends, will make memories anew, 'Arry. Zose zat truly care for you…"

"It's hard… knowing that my first ever friend has turned out that way," said Harry wistfully. "Sometimes I feel like sharing a joke like I used to with him, before all this Tournament and Voldemort business, but when I turn to talk to him he's gone and I have to remind myself. It's been only a few days yet it feels much, much longer. So much seems to have happened."

"Eet is 'ard to lose a friend." Fleur thought of the many friends she had lost because of her Veela nature. "Especially ze first time and ze first friend."

Harry caught on to what she had half said. "You know more about that than any one person should."

Fleur blinked in surprise, momentarily forgetting how observant this Harry was than the one she first met. "Zere are a lot of zings in life zat aren't fair. We've both 'ad our fair share, non?"

Harry just nodded. He leaned into Fleur and closed his eyes. The cold eventually got too much for them and they retired to Fleur's bedroom, not encountering any other Delacours on their way.

"Um…" Harry said, suddenly feeling very nervous. "Do your parents know that we're staying in the same bed?" he asked once Fleur had cast a Silencing Charm on the door.

Fleur smirked. "Worried if zey zink zeir eldest daughter is two timing 'er fiancé?"

"Close enough," Harry replied briskly.

"Non, zey zink I am sleeping on a conjured bed."

"You know I wouldn't allow this if the situation was different, right?" Harry asked. He was actually looking forward to sharing the same bed again. It was wrong to think the way he was about someone who was already with another, but he couldn't help it. The comfort he felt when she was holding him the previous night was remarkable. He wanted to feel that again.

"Oui, whezzer eet would work or not we'll 'ave to find out anozzer time." Fleur smiled, turned and walked to her wardrobe.

Harry turned away and closed his eyes, getting somewhat used to what he considered as her teasing. He could hear the ruffling of clothing as Fleur undressed. His mind, thanks to the still vivid recollection from last night, went into overdrive at those sounds. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Going to be as nervous as last night?" Fleur asked when she was done, crossing the room, placing a hand on his shoulder. It tensed briefly under her touch, but relaxed almost instantly.

"Any reason I shouldn't be?" he asked back, still looking away.

"You didn't do anyzing wrong last night." Fleur turned Harry around to look at him in the eyes. "You're a perfect gentleman. Zere is nozzing to be nervous about." Harry begged to differ but didn't bother bringing it up.

Fleur then turned away while Harry changed into pyjama pants and a shirt that Fleur and Henri had provided him instead of constantly transfiguring his clothes. When he was dressed, he climbed back into the surprisingly warm bed; Fleur joined him a moment later.

"I can't say I saw this coming," remarked Harry, staring at the ceiling.

"Sleeping in the same bed as moi?"

"Yeah," breathed Harry, rolling over to face her.

"Nor 'ad I," offered Fleur, rolling over to face him.

"I felt like I was living someone else's life today. It has been one of the best days of my life."

"Despite ze circumstances zat brought you here?" Fleur asked, surprised by the statement. "And ze pain zat persistently at least through ze morning?"

"Yes." Harry replied confidently, resolutely. He shuffled a bit closer until he was just out of direct contact with Fleur.

Only Fleur's breathing could be heard for several minutes.

"I'm glad I could 'elp," she replied eventually.

For the next hour, the two lay in the same position, occasionally talking, slowly winding down.

"You know your way around France far better than I ever will," said Harry softly. "Think you can find a place to get me some better regular clothes?"

"Of course. We can go in ze afternoon, after your test."

Harry mumbled an incomprehensible reply. Quicker than the previous night, the two fell asleep. Neither discussed what nearly happened, nor mentioned that there was no need for them to be sleeping in the same bed.


	9. Uncertainty

A/N: Thank you, as always, to my beta 'chem prof' and all the work he puts into making this far more readable than it otherwise would be.

_**Chapter 9**__**: Uncertainty**_

When morning came, Fleur was again the first to awaken. This time, however, she was immediately aware of her bed mate and his position.

Having fallen asleep separate, her hand was now around the young man's shoulder, his head on her shoulder. His left arm was across her stomach. He was breathing deeply, complete with a small smile. Fleur couldn't resist smiling at the peaceful look on his face.

She closed her eyes again, wishing that Bill would sometimes hold her like this. Her fiancée was an aggressive lover, one who preferred the slightly-to-very rough to the tender and slow. She, at times, thoroughly enjoyed the experience, the Veela inside of her glorifying in the delicious dirtiness of the act. But, sometimes, she longed for the opposite, something Bill never satisfied. Sometimes she desired to hold or to be held like Harry was now.

_Merde, I'm comparing them…_

What concerned her the most, however, was how easily and vividly the thoughts of Harry came.

Harry shuffled in his sleep, his hand gently brushing Fleur's as he moved. A soft sigh escaped her lips. The sensations here were so different than she usually experienced.

Her thoughts drifted again, this time to the last time she and her fiancé spent the night together. It had been more than a fortnight ago in Bill's apartment in London. The couple had gone out to dinner after work on a Friday and then walked, chatting, around the city for an hour before returning to his apartment.

As soon as she was in the door, Bill had pulled her into a fierce kiss. Fleur responded after a moment's surprise at the sudden act. Their outer clothes were rapidly discarded, and Bill directed her to his bed.

After admiring her for a moment, Bill then descended upon her bra covered breasts and kneaded them. Fleur had gasped in pleasure and pain; however, this time, it was more pain than pleasure.

The first time Fleur had gotten this far with Bill, she had felt almost entirely pleasure from his actions. Perhaps it had been because it was her first time that far, or perhaps it had been because she had liked it back then. Now, each time seemed to give her less and less pleasure. Had it been the thrill that turned her on? If it was, then she knew she was losing that thrill.

Fleur loved Bill. There was no doubt in her mind about that. Sometimes she just wished he was gentler.

Next, Bill had kissed her roughly, while reaching between the legs of the blonde part-Veela. Pushing the underwear to the side, he had thrust two fingers deep inside of the woman, causing her to moan and gasp into Bill's mouth.

Again, she had once felt only pleasure in that manner. Now things had changed.

She still was able to find her release, for Bill did not stop until she had at least once. He was dedicated, albeit rough.

Even with the pain she had received in her memory, present Fleur was getting turned on. All other thoughts aside, she was still very attracted to the man.

A sudden movement around her brought her back to Earth. Here she was thinking about her fiancé and the last time they had been together while in the arms of a younger male, even though it was completely platonic. There was something very wrong with that image.

Fleur sighed, her thoughts now drifting to Harry.

Was it completely platonic? They were certainly getting cosy together the past two nights, pain or no pain. She was also attracted to him, no doubt. She'd nearly worn what she normally wore to bed, a far shorter shirt which left her underwear exposed. The only reason she'd held back was because Harry would certainly have taken it the wrong way, let alone her own mind.

Then there was how she felt when she lay here like this. Two nights prior, she had felt as if there were no expectations to be met by sleeping in the same bed as Harry. That thought in itself was worrying. Did she feel pressured by Bill? They did, almost every time they were in a bedroom together, end up naked.

Her greatest fear about Bill was that he would succumb to the allure and only want her for her body. Could that already be happening? If Bill would only hold her the way she was holding Harry sometimes... to be safe, secure.

For the second time the same morning, Fleur started when she realized the trail her thoughts were leading her.

When she saw Bill…

_Wait, isn't it Monday? Merde!_

"Harry,"

No response. He was still soundly asleep.

Fleur sighed, but couldn't remain annoyed for long. He looked so peaceful. However, she would disturb him if he did not wake soon.

_Hopefully the Goblins will accept this as one of my vacation days._

Fleur closed her eyes and tried to relax again. The sounds of her and Harry's breathing filled her ears and soon she felt drowsy again. It took only minutes for Fleur to drift off into a doze.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Sometime later, Harry woke.

The far wall of Fleur's bedroom came into blurry view. He could barely make out some of his belongings on a chair. It took him several more seconds to notice that he was not alone, again. In fact, he was lying partially on top of Fleur.

He sat up quickly and felt his spin. He was still tired; however he could feel no pain.

Rustling behind him informed him Fleur noticed he'd moved.

"Morning," he whispered."

"Morning," she whispered back. "How are you feeling zis morning?"

Harry considered the question. "Better."

"Zat's great!" said Fleur, genuinely pleased.

Harry turned to look at Fleur. She looked beautiful. There was no other word to describe her. Her hair was perfect – clearly bed hair was not an issue for Veela – and her smile brightened her face. He resisted the urge to blush at her and looked away.

"We ended up sleeping closely again," said Harry, studiously not looking at her. He felt Fleur sit up.

"Oui. Do you mind?"

Harry thought for a moment. "In all honesty..."

"Yes?" Fleur pressed when Harry trailed off.

He faced Fleur for a moment, saw the honest acceptance on her face, and looked away. "These last two mornings are my favourites."

Fleur shifted forward and made Harry face her. He matched her gaze briefly before looking away, a slight colour on his cheeks. He couldn't believe he'd admitted that.

"Zese two are pretty 'igh up zere on mine too," replied Fleur. Her eyes quickly widened and then she quickly looked away realizing what she had just admitted to. Harry turned back to face Fleur fully, shuffling on the bed.

Harry was confused. Wasn't she with Bill? How was this happening? He remembered what Fleur had said two nights ago.

_I trust you. Zat is why I know I can sleep in ze same bed as you and know I'm safe. Ze same goes for my…attire._

The entire situation seemed surreal. A beautiful woman was paying attention to him in such a manner that is generally reserved for those in a relationship. And for her to admit that these last two mornings were among her favourites really spoke volumes. Harry just didn't know exactly what that meant.

Wasn't she engaged? Would an engaged woman normally allow someone besides her fiancé to touch her, clothes or no clothes?

Very suddenly, Harry found Seamus to not be full of crap. Women were complex.

Either that or he just had clue whatsoever. And after a minute's thought, he attributed the situation to a bit of both. He really, truly had no clue. If anything, he was still a child when it came to women.

"What are we going to do today?" asked Harry into the silence that developed.

Fleur faced him again and smiled. "We can get you some better clothes like I said we would. But now zat you are well, we can do eet now rather zan tomorrow. Perhaps I could show you around my country, too, oui? I shall show you the wonders of my homeland, and prove zat France is superior."

Harry couldn't resist smiling back. For a little longer, they shared a conversation which grew increasingly easy to maintain. There was serenity in this room, away from the reality outside of it. Even if Fleur was engaged, that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy her company, right?

Soon, however, the need to move exceeded their desire to sit and talk. Fleur gave Harry a tight hug that garnered and involuntary reaction. This time, Harry attempted a warm shower and found his problem to disappear at large the same rate.

_Really, whoever came up with the idea that cold showers helped should be castrated…_

Harry then wondered if it was a vengeful female who had come up with the idea…

Fleur, after reminiscing of her moments with Bill, used her time in the shower to have a private moment. Her imagination took over her memories, switching from her relations to Bill, to imagining scenarios with Harry. She left the shower feeling guilty and confused after she found her release.

Henri had already departed for work by the time Harry and Fleur dragged themselves through their showers and got dressed. After a quick breakfast and some time to sort herself out, Fleur pushed her troubles aside and eagerly dragged Harry throughout a number of favourite shopping stores in Paris. Despite her protests, Harry had limited her to one city, knowing that the alternative meant he would be stuck shopping all day today and the next day, too. He felt he'd won that debate.

Apparition was still enormously uncomfortable for Harry, but he was growing used to it. He worried over his exam the next day, which had been confirmed earlier by an owl from Henri.

By the end of the day, he had purchased an array of formal, semi-formal and casual clothes. Despite what he'd been led to believe, the experience hadn't been entirely tortuous. Fleur had been open to his suggestions and not insisted upon anything he did not like. The most embarrassing moments, however, came when Fleur directed Harry to the underwear section and offered suggestions and the aftermath outside. The clerk who assisted them in that particular store failed to hide her amusement at the scene of the beautiful Veela picking out styles and putting them against Harry's groin to see what they looked like.

But the worst one was after they had left.

"Now zat I've seen your underwear, 'Arry, perhaps I should level ze field and show you mine?"

Harry had stared. He honestly couldn't tell if the woman had been joking or not. Then, Fleur had laughed at his expression, and Harry had refused to speak to her for the next fifteen minutes.

Muggle Paris was incredible. Harry had been severely limited in his knowledge of the world, even such monuments and sites as the Eiffel Tower. Fleur was a fun tour guide, eagerly explaining the history and significance of the various sites in Paris. Harry's only regret was that the day ended so soon.

It was late-afternoon when the pair returned to the Delacour home. Harry dropped off his acquisitions in Fleur's bedroom, and after a quick meal, the pair went out again to check out a few sights of France, while Fleur simultaneously explained Harry Apparition to the best of her abilities.

Harry could scarcely recall a better day.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Dinner was a pleasant affair. Gabrielle was largely the centre of focus throughout the meal as she chattered on to Harry about anything and everything. Fleur had been forced to translate most of what had been said between the two, which meant for a very stop-start conversation, but Harry hadn't minded too much.

Afterwards, Henri and Anastasia and Harry and Fleur went their separate ways. Fleur and Harry went for a walk in the garden again, this time much further from the manor.

"I'm worried," admitted Fleur after a silence had fallen between the two. Harry looked at the older woman and watched as she brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"Everyone's always worried, Fleur," replied Harry. He stopped under a huge oak tree, and faced her. "It's kind of in our nature."

Fleur sent him a sharp look at the unhelpful response. Harry, strangely, knew exactly the look he was being given. It was … odd.

"What are you worried about?" he asked. Fleur sighed, sat and relaxed back into the tree, winced as a piece of bark poked her in the back, and leaned forward again.

"More zings zan I'd care to," she replied. This time Harry was the one with the sharp look on his face. He sat down next to her they both stared at out at the beautiful countryside. The manor was a mile or two away now. The garden was illuminated to great effect by the fairies that inhabited it.

"I 'ave … I'm 'aving thoughts I can't control, about zings I shouldn't," elaborated Fleur.

Harry didn't really know what to say. He'd had his own thoughts lately about topics he shouldn't, but, "Who says you shouldn't?" he asked. "Thoughts are thoughts. Everyone has thoughts that others won't approve of. I'm a teenage male, trust me on this." Fleur couldn't help but let out a small laugh at that. Harry smiled at the sound. It felt good to make people laugh.

"Like I said, thoughts are thoughts," Harry went on. "When you act on them, on things you shouldn't, that's when you should be worried." He paused a moment. "You know, a little more information would help me help you."

Fleur shook her head as she said, "It's okay, 'Arry. I'll sort zis out somehow."

"If you say so," he said, shrugging. "From experience, people often make the wrong choice. Do whatever you feel is right for you."

He opened his eyes and looked at Fleur directly. "I want to live my own way. I can't at the moment, for rather obvious reasons, but once this war is over, I want to try and find my own way in life. Other people telling me what to do, making my choices, decisions … it isn't right to disallow someone to make their own choices and make their own mistakes. It's how we learn isn't it, by making our own mistakes?"

"I guess what I'm trying to say, and remember this _is_ me you're asking advice from, so don't expect miracles, is that you should do what feel rights for you and not what anyone else says. Taking another's advice is important, but making the final choice is your job and your job alone."

Harry paused a second time, and rethought about what he had said. "I think I went a little off topic…"

"Zat's okay, I zink I got a bit of an answer," Fleur said gratefully. She knocked the piece of bark aside and leaned back into the tree, more comfortably this time. Harry closed his eyes again and relaxed back into his part of the tree. They were close enough so their shoulders touched.

It was awhile before they moved.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Unfortunately, reality began to encroach on Harry's thoughts as the night wore on. This would be his final night here, and he was beginning to dread returning to Hogwarts. While he had friends there, people he cared about, he also had the prophecy, the war, even whatever Malfoy was up to and the challenge in teaching and learning to trust the new DA members to contend with. Here, things were peaceful, if not somewhat complicated.

It remained unspoken that Harry needn't sleep in the same bed with Fleur anymore. Harry tried his best to ignore it, but he was becoming deeply troubled by his own and Fleur's actions. He enjoyed the experience, he could not deny. However, he had to wonder what Fleur was thinking.

Nevertheless, once he was dressed in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt (his new pyjamas), which Fleur had picked out for him, he sat on Fleur's bed, faced away, keeping his eyes closed while Fleur changed. He could hear the rustle of clothing and his imagination leaped on the opportunity. From the sounds, he could tell exactly which piece of clothing had been just been removed or put on. His felt his reaction start almost immediately.

"You can peek now, 'Arry." Fleur whispered when she done. Harry slowly turned around and drank in the sight of Fleur in her sleepwear again. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help it. She was beautiful.

Fleur watched him watch her and began to wonder how he thought of her appearance. It took her several moments to realise how wrong that thought was. Bill was the one she cared about, right? He was the one whose opinion mattered. And yet, even that aside, she knew she was beautiful. She built parts of her personality upon that fact.

Then, why was she so interested in Harry's opinion?

Harry tore his eyes away from the sight, and crossed his legs to hide his reaction. He felt Fleur sit on the bed. For a minute, nothing more happened.

"It's come to an end so quickly," Harry whispered. Fleur turned her head to face Harry, taking in the sight of Harry, still with his glasses on, in front of her.

"Eet feels longer zan three nights," Fleur responded, her voice just as soft.

"For you, maybe," Harry replied, a little envious at that. These past days seemed to have passed far quicker than his days at Hogwarts.

Harry sighed. "It couldn't last. Nothing perfect ever does for me."

"Perfect?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. Forget I said that."

"Non, 'Arry," replied Fleur, shaking her head. She moved forward onto her knees and placed her hands on Harry's shoulders. He looked up at her. "I simply am surprised. I 'ave also enjoyed my time with you."

Harry shook his head again. "I've spent a lot of my life in some kind of pain. This," Harry looked around Fleur's room, ending with her once again. Her shirt was slightly crooked, revealing an expanse of skin around her right shoulder. He quickly looked away. "This is far better than the Dursley's or the Hospital Wing."

Fleur pursed her lips, debating on whether to broach a no doubt sensitive subject. "Your life with ze Muggle was not pleasant, was eet?"

For a long time, Harry did not say anything. He'd very rarely discussed the Dursley's with anyone. Hermione probably knew the most, and even then...

"No, it wasn't."

Fleur, uncertain of what to do, hugged Harry. Surprised, he didn't react immediately, but eventually he uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around her.

The hug lasted awhile. Harry tried to describe it, but it was indescribable. The feelings, the sensation, the emotions behind it were so foreign. He nearly thought 'loving touch' but didn't know if this was it or not. It certainly wasn't abuse, and it certainly felt more than simply friendship. Hermione had never done this in all their years of friendship.

He told her. He told her about the cupboard, about the bullying and verbal abuse.

Fleur was silent the entire time he spoke, sitting by his side, keeping in contact. She listened and resisted the urge to pity him, to express her anger at the Muggle's that were supposed to take care of him.

When he was through, she hugged him again, saying nothing. She didn't prod further, and she didn't judge him, condemn him for being a freak, or do anything except hug him.

She eventually pulled away and smiled at him, her expression warm and caring. He didn't deserve what had been done to him, and she couldn't help what to give him better memories. Her earlier hesitation and confusion were forgotten.

The news of Harry's home life did not come entire as a surprise. Her partner for the Order of the Phoenix, Hestia Jones, had mentioned Harry's home life hadn't been what she thought it was while she observed him the previous summer. The news, however, did explain why he found his experiences here so positive. He'd experienced few truly happy moments.

Fleur sat by Harry for several minutes in silence, running her hand up and down his arm while he contemplated whatever it was he was contemplating. Suddenly, he moved his own arm, and grabbed her hand, squeezing it slightly. Then, after a minute, faced her and leant towards her. She caught him, and after a bit of adjustment, he was lying on her similarly to that morning.

A whispered word plunged the room into darkness. The only source of light was from the moonlight through Fleur's still opened curtains. The pair laid in silence.

Harry began to run his hand over Fleur's stomach. He touched the skin of her midriff accidentally and tensed, halting his movement. Fleur, oddly breathing heavily, used her hand not holding Harry and placed hers atop his, moving it slowly again.

Slowly relaxing, Harry resumed the movement, alternating between skin and the material of her shirt. Fleur removed her hand and closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation, secretly wanting more of it. She cursed herself for her lack of self-control, but it felt so nice...

As if listening, Harry complied. He started nudging her shirt up and touching more and more of her midriff. Gradually, his reach and her shirt rose higher and higher, until Harry nudged the underside of her breasts. Immediately, Harry removed his hand and made to sit up. Fleur held him tightly, breathing heavily.

She didn't know what was coming over her. She knew she was engaged to Bill, she knew she cared about him a lot. She knew that this was wrong. But she felt so relaxed, so calm and peaceful and safe here with Harry. Why was she doing this?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," stammered Harry. "I should sleep somewhere else."

"It's okay," whispered Fleur, without thinking. "I would stop you if I didn't want or like it." And she realised it were true. She did want it. A lot.

Harry gradually relaxed again, but he did not start brushing his hand over her again. He had felt her breasts, and the lack of a bra. His body had reacted strongly to the thought, and his imagination went into overdrive.

Her shirt was ridden up to the underside of her breasts... he could continue what he was doing and touch them. They would be his first, and an almost childish excitement filled him at the possibilities that presented.

But reality came crashing down. Bill. Harry cursed himself and Bill, though he knew it wasn't Bill's fault.

He removed his head from her shoulder a second time and this time Fleur let him go. He laid down with his head on her pillow, next time to hers. She turned and faced him. Their faces were close enough to feel each other's breath.

Almost unconsciously, his hand moved back to her exposed belly and resumed its movement, now reaching her back as she'd moved onto her side. Fleur closed her eyes again and relaxed into the sensation. Her own hand reached out to Harry and drew him a little closer, so that they were only centimetres apart. Her hand soon disappeared beneath his shirt. Harry breathed a little quicker.

This was insane, Fleur knew. She knew that if this kept up, they would kiss. If she were honest, she doubted at this rate she could stop at just a kiss.

Harry was a wonderful person. He was troubled, and had a lot of baggage, but it some ways, she did also. But did that excuse her from kissing a man who wasn't her fiancée, even if he wasn't perfect? Even if he didn't treat her exactly like she wanted? She should just tell him what the problem was and they could work through it together. And yet, here she was. She could feel it in her bones, the desire to kiss Harry. Her heart ached a little.

She was engaged. And yet, she'd been swayed to this point. Fleur began to question her resolve, her commitment. Was this engagement even what she wanted anymore? She loved Bill... but did she see a future with him?

Despite what she tried to make herself believe, these weren't entirely new thoughts. She'd had them since the summer, if not earlier. Her flirtation with Harry wasn't new, either.

Harry's hand rode up her back again, moving beneath her shirt, where her bra strap should have been. Fleur sighed and moved a little closer. She couldn't help herself.

Maybe Bill wasn't right for her. If she was having these doubts, then maybe... But no, this was something she needed to discuss with Bill. But Harry was here, now. The urge to kiss him was continually growing.

She could provide him many memories this night. Many wonderful memories that he deserved but had been unjustly denied time and again. Could she add to that? Deny him something wonderful. Deep down, she knew she was making excuses. However, she ignored that part of her and continued to touch him.

His shirt had ridden up and she placed her hand on his chest. He was thin, but what was there was firm. Lean.

She raised her eyes and gazed into his emerald ones. An age passed.

_She__'s engaged_, Harry kept reminding himself. But she wasn't acting like it. He didn't know if he could resist much longer.

Fleur breathed deeply, and Harry felt her breath on him. His eyes were drawn to her lips. They were perfect. He wanted them. He tried to remind himself that they weren't his, but his resistance was thwarted by his desire, his emotions.

He placed a little pressure on Fleur's back, and he felt someone his own. He leant forward ever so slightly, and she matched him. He turned his head slightly, still watching her lips. She turned, too, and they two leant forward that little more.

And they kissed.

Their lips gently brushed together. Harry felt Fleur's soft lips against his. Fleur felt Harry's slightly rougher lips against hers. Fleur closed her lips slightly, and Harry responded in kind. The kiss was light, but Harry felt it deep inside of him.

The kiss continued for some time. Harry and Fleur retreated simultaneously, opened their eyes to search the others, asking silent questions and receiving no answers. There were no sounds except their breathing.

Harry was the first to turn away. He took his hand from Fleur's back and sat up.

"I'm sorry, Fleur, I didn't mean too..." he struggled to explain himself. "I just couldn't resist anymore."

Fleur sat up beside Harry. "What did I say before, Harry?" she asked softly. He felt her hand on his shoulder again. "I said that I would stop you."

Harry turned to face her. "I don't understand. You're engaged."

Fleur felt a twinge of guilt at her actions. "I know." She drew him a little closer. He didn't resist.

"Did you want to kiss me?" she asked.

"Huh?"

"Did you want to kiss me?" she repeated. "Do you care about me in that way?" She avoided the use of the word 'love', certain he did not understand how that felt given his childhood.

"I..."

"Don't think about it, 'Arry," continued Fleur, her mouth near his ear, a hand caressing his cheek. "Answer the question."

He did. "Yes."

Fleur leant forward and kissed his cheek. Harry, eyes closed, felt goosebumps erupt on his skin.

He turned to face her, eyes examining her face. She smiled at him, belying the inner turmoil she was subduing. She wanted this now. She'd deal with the consequences later.

She got her legs beneath her and pushed Harry back down onto the bed. She leant forward, her shirt still high on her torso, revealing an expanse of skin lit by the moonlight to Harry's eye. He didn't know where to look. But he knew that he would try and remember this sight for the rest of his life.

Slowly, Fleur straddled Harry, and in process felt his strong reaction to her. Harry, embarrassed, looked away.

"It's okay, 'Arry."

She placed her hands on his chest, and lifted his shirt up. Fleur leant forward and kissed his exposed skin. Harry closed his eyes and squirmed under the unfamiliar feeling.

His hands moved on their own accord to Fleur's side. He moved them up and down her flawless skin. It felt divine. He sat up a bit, jostling Fleur in her place. She smiled at him as she sat astride. She leant forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and the two kissed again, tenderly.

This time, the kiss lasted longer, went deeper. As the kiss went on, she moved her arms down to his back again, and this time lifted his shirt up. She broke this kiss, and lifted it over his head. As soon as it was free, she tossed it into a corner of the room and resumed the kiss, this time more passionate and harder.

Harry's hands travelled down Fleur's back and, with trepidation, touched her hips and lower. He received no response except perhaps to deepen the kiss.

He was overwhelmed. This beautiful woman was kissing him. It shouldn't be happening, but damn if he could resist any longer. He knew, somehow, that this had nothing to do with the Veela allure, but all the same, he could not resist.

His hands travelled upward again, this time all the way up her back. Fleur ended the kiss, and stared into Harry's eyes, her breathing ragged.

"I need to know, 'Arry." Fleur whispered. "Do you care for me?"

Harry wasn't sure if he didn't actually care for her couldn't have resisted lying to her, but he was lying to himself if he didn't admit that he did. It wasn't just this, tonight. It had been the previous two days and perhaps even back at the Burrow when he'd started to like her.

"Yes." Harry replied, his tone thick with emotion and, yes, lust. He wanted her. Badly.

Fleur smiled; even in her state she could understand the sincerity in his response.

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her stomach, watching his eyes carefully. Harry alternated between his hands and her eyes, heart racing. Fleur let go and leant forward to kiss him again.

"You can, if you want," she whispered between kisses. Harry, nervous as he'd ever been, moved his hands upwards a little until he felt the undersides of her breasts. He halted, trying to maintain his kissing as well as gauge her reaction. He noticed no complaints. If anything, she moved forward, rubbing against his manhood as well as his hands.

Hesitating a moment longer, he moved his hands a little more, and grasped her breasts. Fleur moaned into his mouth, and Harry could not resist thrusting up into her.

Again, he lacked the words to describe how it felt. It was the best thing he'd ever felt, and he never wanted to let go. Instead, he gently squeezed them, testing out the sensation, and trying desperately to gauge Fleur's reaction so he had some idea of what to do.

Fleur broke their kiss. "More," she said breathlessly.

Harry continued to squeeze her breasts, and he began to move his hands around, finding her nipples and gentle brushing them. Fleur threw her head back, her long, blonde hair trailing down her back. The moonlight hit her body and emphasised every aspect of her Harry could make out.

Fleur moved her hands to her shirt, and lifted it above her head. She discarded it and looked down at Harry with eyes filled with desire. Harry removed his hands, and placed them on her hips. While he had the chance, he drank in the sight of her.

She was perfect. Her body was perfectly proportioned, her breasts perky and large, though not excessively. Perfect for her body shape. Just perfect.

Fleur continued to gyrate against Harry's manhood, and Harry moaned in response. He heard her moan, too, and then felt himself being pushed back. Fleur leant forward and they kissed again, harder and more furiously than before.

She continued to thrust against him, and slowly began to trail kisses down his chin, neck and torso. Despite his best efforts, he thrust into her again and again, the friction delicious.

They continued for another half an hour, before Fleur got off of Harry and lay beside him. She pressed her body to him, and he held her close. Sleep took a long time to arrive.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Dawn came and passed. It was nearly eight when either woke.

Harry was extremely grateful Fleur locked her bedroom door and her parents let Fleur have her privacy when he took in the situation around him. He was lying on his back, with Fleur on his chest. She was still topless, and he could feel her breasts against him. He closed his eyes and basked in the sensation for a long moment.

Then the guilt set in. This shouldn't have happened. She was engaged. But damn, she was hard to resist, even without the allure. And why hadn't she resisted? She'd said she'd wanted it, hadn't she? What did that even mean?

He turned to look at Fleur. He saw her eyes were open, but she was silent. They lay together like that for several minutes.

Last night had been incredible, and Harry knew that it would stay with him for a long time. Was this more what a relationship would've resulted in that his experience with Cho? It certainly felt better.

"You're an interesting man, Harry Potter."

Fleur lifted her head off his chest, her hairs tickling his skin, and lay back onto a pillow. She covered herself slightly with her sheets. Harry squashed the part of him that was saddened at the only brief glimpse he'd gotten.

"That's a word I've not heard associated with me very often." Harry replied after a time. He rolled onto his side and faced her.

"Perhaps eet should," said Fleur, with a smile. "Or perhaps 'andsome, or attractive should take precedence?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought of last night. Her skin, her lips, her breasts on his skin. It had felt magical. He would've considered it a dream if she was not lying against him topless at this very moment.

He opened his eyes again to see Fleur watching him. On the surface, she seemed happy, but in her own head were voices of recrimination for what she'd done. The worst part was she only regretted it a little.

There was a part of her that was pleased at the fact that she had been Harry's first intimate experience. Hell, she had surely succeeded in giving him a memorable night. Even if they hadn't gotten past kissing and mild groping, it had still felt wonderful.

"What time is it?" asked Harry, interrupting Fleur's thoughts. She rolled over and checked a clock.

"'alf eight," she said. "We 'ave three and a 'alf 'ours before your test."

Harry nodded and closed his eyes again. He didn't want to leave just yet. If he was honest, he wanted last night to continue.

Meanwhile, Fleur sat up, her sheets pulled up to cover her exposed breasts. She looked around for her shirt, saw it on the floor nearby and leant down to retrieve it. Shirt in hand, she sat back up and found Harry watching her. Strangely, she did not mind.

He continued to watch her as she put her top back on, even catching another small glimpse of her breasts in the process. Fleur lay back down next to Harry and shuffled forward a bit closer. She wasn't ready for this to end, either.

There would be consequences for last night, but her uncertainty in the moment had shaken her. If Bill wasn't the one for her, was Harry? Or was he simply an outlet for said uncertainty? Would the same have happened if someone else had been in Harry's position?

That, at least, Fleur had an answer for: No. She cared about Harry. That complicated matters considerably. It did provide her with some answers, but certainly more questions, too.

Time passed as the pair lay in bed together. Neither made any move to rekindle the previous night's actions, though the desire was plainly still there. Eventually, however, it was time to rise.

Harry showered first. He spent minutes under the shower simply remembered the previous night, trying to commit to memory every little detail in case this would ever happen again. There was the shape of her body, the feel of her breasts, the light on her skin, and the sensation of kissing those wonderful, pink lips. It took a long time to calm himself.

When he returned, dressed, Fleur was sitting on the bed, looking out her window. Her hair trailed down her back, perfect as if she'd spent hours brushing it. She looked contemplative. However, she turned as he approached. She smiled at him for a moment, and then proceeded to head into her bathroom and shower.

This time, her shower was shorter, though no less confusing. It took a lot less time to reach her release, and her thoughts her solely of the previous evening, the feel of Harry beneath her, upon her. After she was done, she began to feel a little guilty. Guilty because she wanted more.

Once dressed, Harry and Fleur sat together on her bed.

"Zis... while wonderful, 'Arry, is going to cause many problems for you and me."

Harry turned away and closed his eyes. He knew it was coming, knew it needed to happen, but at the same time he wanted to prolong their time together for as long as possible.

"Can, at least, we wait until after my test?"

Breakfast was late. Henri had already department, and Anastasia was off on her own working. Gabrielle had left to visit a friend. Harry and Fleur were alone.

Afterwards, Fleur took Harry outside and drilled every bit of knowledge about Apparition she could think of into Harry's head. He accepted it graciously as his nerves were beginning to return.

All too soon, it was half eleven and time to depart. Fleur bid farewell to her mother, and walked Harry to the Apparition point.

_Here we go. _Harry thought.

He took Fleur's hand, and, together, they Apparated away.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The test was easy.

Whether it was intentionally so, or Harry simply had a knack for Apparition, he couldn't discern. It didn't matter, really.

The test itself consisted of several Apparitions which differed in a variety of ways. The simplest was several metres and in clear sight, while the harder ones were of distances up to hundreds of metres and with no foreknowledge of the location. He passed with flying colours.

Interestingly, a final test after he had passed indicated the distance to which one could safely Apparate per jump. His was around four hundred kilometres, which Fleur mentioned as very impressive. Her own limit was three hundred and fifty, and she was the best amongst her knowledge base.

Following the test, Fleur led Harry through the extremely hectic French Ministry, which differed a little from the English one, but was fundamentally a similar layout. It was extremely different aesthetically – largely more pleasing, colourful and vibrant in appearance, compared to the extensive portions of bare stone in the English counterpart.

Exiting the elevator to the Minister's office, Harry and Fleur were ushered quickly by a female aide into the waiting area. It was large and warmly decorated. Comfortable chairs were against one wall, with a table filled with reading material, mostly in French (Harry recognised an issue of Transfiguration Today, however), while the receptionist's area was against the other. The nameless aide motioned for them to sit and then headed over to the receptionists area.

Several minutes later, just as Harry was beginning to get restless, the aide returned and once again ushered them forth, this time into a door on the far end of the room.

The French Minster for Magic was a short man, even shorter than Harry. He had long brown hair and a non-descript face. Had Harry not know this was the Minister; he would've mistaken him for a secretary. Fudge hadn't been easy on the eyes, but he wasn't plain.

"Ah, Mr. Potter." The Minister spoke in perfect English with a fairly strong French accent. "I 'ave been looking forward to your visit. Please take a seat." Harry and Fleur took seats on the other side of the desk.

The room was large and richly decorated. It reminded Harry of Dumbledore's office sans all the odds and ends, replaced with files and cabinets.

After a cursory observation of the room, Harry returned his attention to the Minister. What was going to happen here? What did the Minister want from him?

"In case you don't know, Mr. Potter, my name is Aldric Dolton." Minister Dolton smiled at him. Harry offered a brief smile back. After Fudge, he was not going to let himself get caught off guard by a deceptively pleasant outside.

"What can I do for you, Minister Dolton?" Harry asked politely.

"Straight to the point I see."

"I have not had a good relationship with Ministers in my life, sir." Harry replied honestly.

Minister Dolton leaned forward and studied Harry for a moment. Harry had met a lot of new people recently, all performing the same study by staring. This time he didn't flinch or feel uncomfortable. He may only be sixteen but he was not a pushover anymore. Things had certainly changed in the last four months.

The Minister must've come to a conclusion about him for he smiled and leaned back into his chair.

"I requested zis meeting for several reasons," Aldric Dolton said. "Instead of listing zem, I might as well get to the point?"

Harry looked to Fleur, who smiled encouragingly at him. He turned back to the Minister. "I would appreciate that."

"Very well," he said with a small smile.

Fleur watched the two, mostly invisible in this conversation. She wondered why she was permitted to stay.

Minister Dalton sat back up. "Why did you come to France?"

"I was attacked in London's Diagon Alley," Harry replied immediately. "I, erm, don't trust any of the places I had on offer at the time to keep me safe while I recovered. Fleur here," Harry gestured to the part-Veela. The Minister looked to her briefly before returning his focus on Harry. "Was with me at the time. I asked her to take me to her place." Harry paused. "I have no intention of dragging France into all this, sir, if that's what you're worried about."

Minister Dolton looked impressed. That had been one of his main concerns and reasons for asking Harry Potter to visit. However…

"I appreciate ze assurance, Mr. Potter, however that is, unfortunately, beyond your power." Minister Dalton said solemnly. "During ze previous war, ze self-proclaimed 'Voldemort' reached out to peoples of France in an effort to find allies. He has already begun to rekindle those ties to some of ze less desirable denizens of France."

Harry resisted the urge to act surprised at this revelation. After a moment's thought it made perfect sense that Voldemort would seek outside support, but nevertheless it was an eye-opening revelation.

"I am satisfied with zat explanation, and Henri Delacour has confirmed this." Minister Dalton continued. "I simply wished to 'ear it from your mouth. You must forgive my lack of trust at this juncture. Representations of you in ze media have been... varied let us say."

Harry crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

"Ha, I ze you are in agreement." The Minister grinned for a moment. Then, he grew serious once again. Harry admired the rapidity of the change. It was putting him off balance, and that was probably the reason for it.

"Ze second question I 'ave," he continued. "Is why 'ave you requested to get your Apparition license in France and not your own nation?"

Harry looked at Fleur for a moment, then back to the Minister. The Minister followed his gaze to the young woman before him and back.

"The British Ministry of Magic hasn't exactly been able to keep anything secret when it comes to me." Harry said bluntly. "I don't want the news of my license advertised, or the news that I am even of age. I have a lot of enemies. If they don't know that I am of age, it will be an advantage, even if it is small. The ability to Apparate may save my life if I get caught. You wouldn't think set up defences for Apparition to someone underage. It's not a lot to have up my sleeve, but every bit helps."

Minister Dolton nodded as Harry spoke. "I understand, Mr. Potter. Ze British Ministry is riddled wiz wizards who would jump at the chance to earn a galleon by revealing classified information. Zat is one of ze reasons we don't get along well wiz your Ministry. The Tri-Wizard Tournament was 'oped to improve relations. But zat turned disastrous, and your Minister refused to acknowledge ze return of Voldemort."

The Minister looked between the two once more. "'owever, it appears to 'ave not been a complete disaster."

Harry turned to Fleur and the pair shared a smile. Not a complete disaster, no.

"Henri is an old friend of mine," the Minister began. "When he approached me after ze Third Task of ze Tournament with ze story Fleur said, I was, admittedly, sceptical. However, I knew he would not lie to me. We 'ave been preparing ever since."

Harry didn't reply, instead absorbing the information.

Minister Dolton took a breath. "My third reason for requesting this meeting may seem trivial, however I believe it is important."

"Sir?"

"I wished to meet you, Mr. Potter." Minister Dolton said. "You are a famous person, even outside the British Isles." Harry couldn't resist making a face. "I see you are displeased by this. There is, however, more to it than that. I wish to offer my friendship."

"Your friendship?" repeated Harry. Fleur offered him no answers when he glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

"Your newspapers 'ave taken to calling you ze 'Chosen One'," said Minister Dolton. "Whether zis is true iz irrelevant to me. 'owever, if you were to rise to a powerful standing in the future, I wish for us to have a close relationship. France and England 'ave a long history, both good and bad. I seek a friendship with England, but only once zere are competent persons are involved."

"I see." Harry said. He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't even certain he'd survive, let alone enter politics. Even then, this short interaction hardly revealed Minister Dolton's true colours. He couldn't answer this now. Harry didn't think he ever would be able to.

"Zat is enough, Mr. Potter." Minister Dolton said, suddenly getting to his feet. "You are yet young and I wish not to overburden you with thoughts beyond your current breadth of influence. I 'ope you will zink of me positively once ze mess in your 'omeland is over."

Still a little stunned, it took Harry a moment to gather his wits and respond. Their farewells were brief, and a frustrated looking worker passed by Harry and Fleur on their way out. The Ministers' next meeting, probably.

Harry let out a deep breath once he was on the elevator again.

That had been interesting.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry and Fleur Apparated back to the Delacour manor. The trip had been simple for Harry, who nevertheless made certain he still had all his body parts. He'd probably do that a few more times until he was used to the concept of Apparating alone.

"What did you make of that?" asked Harry as the pair walked back to the manor.

"I am not sure." Fleur replied, deep in thought. Harry watched her think, her brows furrowed. Then, his eyes trailed south, over her smart-casual, white button shirt and jeans. Immediately he thought of last night, her skin under his...

"I believe he was genuine in his interest in becoming friends with you, 'Arry," said Fleur, drawing Harry back to reality. Somewhat ashamed, he looked at the rapidly approaching manor. "However, I do not know if he was in the ze reason."

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter for the moment. That seemed far more future planning than I generally think about. If I survive, we'll see what happens."

"If, 'Arry? I should 'ope zat was a slip of ze tongue." Fleur stopped. Harry turned to face her. She looked saddened.

Harry shrugged a second time. "I hope to survive, Fleur. I just don't know if I will."

"You will." Fleur said with conviction. "You will survive."

Uncertain on what to say, he smiled at her. Fleur smiled back after a moment, and the pair went inside for lunch.

The remainder of the day was spent roaming the French countryside. Fleur side-alonged Harry for the majority of the trips since they were completely unfamiliar places. Harry didn't complain.

Finally, however, dusk approached and the pair returned home for dinner with Fleur's parents. Henri and Anastasia congratulated him on his success in the test. They carefully asked questions about the meeting with Minister Dolton, and Harry obliged answers in turn. They had not needed to help him at all let alone as much as they did. He owed them.

But soon it was time for him to return to Hogwarts. Harry didn't want to, but he knew it was necessary.

"I guess this is goodbye for now." Harry said, looking up to Fleur and examining her face. He had his belongings shrunken and inside his pockets.

"Oui. Not for long zough," Fleur smiled at him. "I 'ave ze Pensieve to bring to you in a couple of weeks. Ze Pensieves are difficult to make and can only be ordered specially."

"I will have to borrow you for a weekend again once it's made."

"I'm looking forward to it," Fleur replied honestly.

Harry grew quiet for a moment. He raised his right hand, hesitated and placed it on Fleur's left cheek. "I don't really understand how what happened, happened. Whether it was a onetime thing or more, I just want to say I'm glad it happened."

Fleur smiled softly, placing her hand over his. "Zis is so confusing." She moved her head into his hand. "I still love Bill …" she closed her eyes. "Part of me is glad it happened too, ze rest ..."

"We both have a fair bit of thinking ahead of us, I guess." Harry stated the obvious, watching the French woman leaning into his hand.

"Concentrate on keeping yourself alive, 'Arry. Zere is so much in life you 'ave yet to experience. Voldemort is not ze end for you." Fleur's eyes opened, flashing with determination that flooded into Harry's soul, giving him hope.

Harry pulled her into a hug. Fleur responded immediately, sensing he needed it. For a solid minute they held each other before slowly releasing each other. "Thank you, Fleur."

Harry gave her one last smile, picked up his packages and walked outside of the wards. With a soft 'pop', Harry left France, left his serenity and began his journey back to the darkness at Hogwarts.

He had his moment of peace, of happiness. Regardless of the consequences that come about, Harry was glad it had happened.

For now, however, it was time to go back to the war.


	10. Hogwarts Again

A/N: Thanks to chem prof for, as always, finding and correcting mistakes.

_**Chapter 1**__**0: Hogwarts Again**_

It had taken him four separate Apparitions to travel to the Shrieking Shack. License or not, there was a matter of confidence involved in travelling through Apparition. Harry had to follow the Hogwarts Express track as he had no idea where on a map Hogwarts was located.

Harry also had no idea whether or not the gates to Hogwarts would be open at half six on a Tuesday night, nor did he want to waste time finding out. Instead, he'd decided to use the old tunnel underneath the Whomping Willow. Despite whatever Snape attested, Harry did _not_ like attention.

The tunnel hadn't changed since Harry's last use for it. It was still low-hanging, causing the now taller Harry to have to bend his way through. It was still filled with dirt and grime, much to Harry's chagrin. Thankfully his review of previous year spell books had taught him a cleaning spell or two.

The Hogwarts end of the tunnel gave birth to the brilliant sight of the castle in all its glory.

The grounds were deserted, minus the occasional sign of wildlife. This is what Harry had hoped for, and decided not to push his luck and linger. Those who had dinner early would soon be leaving, if they hadn't already. Even with the Marauder's Map in one of his pockets, it would be next to impossible to return unhindered during the early evening. As long as he avoided Snape and Malfoy, he would consider the trip a success. After leaving Fleur and France behind, he was not in the mood to take a bunch of immature taunting from either of them, Professor or no Professor, Death Eater or no Death Eater.

Hundreds of voices reached Harry's ears as soon as he neared the castle. He entered the grand doors which were still open and passed by the doors to the Great Hall quickly. Nobody called out his name so he assumed he hadn't been seen. At a half-jog, he climbed the stairs and made his way up the next six floors to Gryffindor Tower.

The common room was thankfully empty, allowing Harry to retire to his bed uninterrupted. Even if he could travel four hundred kilometres via Apparition without straining himself, travelling from France to Scotland, needing multiple jumps, took a fair bit out of him.

He resized his parcels and set about putting everything back in order. It was only after he was done before he noticed something was missing - his Invisibility Cloak.

_If Ron took it again…_ Harry scowled. He walked back out to the stairs landing.

'_Accio Invisibility Cloak,'_ Harry summoned silently. There was nothing for a moment and then he saw the glimmering fabric appear from the girls' dormitory. He caught the Cloak before the spell wore off and paused for a moment.

_Did Hermione take it? Or Ginny? They're the only two females that know about it._

Harry quickly stuffed the Cloak under his bed and lay down on top of it. There was a lot to accomplish before the week was over. There was now added pressure, removing the last threads of normalcy from Harry's Hogwarts life. It was now down to classes and two types of training, stopping Malfoy from whatever he was up to and figuring out what else Dumbledore had kept hidden from him.

Life was complicated.

He must've either dozed off or lost track of time because the next thing he knew, there were voices emanating from downstairs that he did not hear come in.

_Best get this over with._ Harry thought ruefully. He rose from the bed, fixed up his robes and crossed the room to the doorway.

"When do you suppose he'll be back?" a girl's voice said, causing Harry to stop in his tracks just before the doorway. "Dumbledore said he wasn't captured."

"Whenever he wants, it's not any of our concern is it?" a second, harsher voice replied. "He never talks to anyone outside his own clique." Harry blanched at this. He never thought he had a 'clique' of all things.

Apparently he was not the only one who found this funny for the first girl and a third girl snorted at this. "Harry Potter has a clique?" the third girl's voice asked with incredulity. "You must be kidding. Anyone can see he only trusts a few people sure, _but_ it's not exactly exclusive. He just doesn't let anyone really close to him besides Hermione and, well used to be Ron." The three girls were silent a moment.

"It doesn't matter, we're two years behind him so we'll never get the chance to know him let alone be with him," the second girl said offhandedly.

_Great, fans__…_

"You've noticed it too then?" the first girl asked.

"That he does not care for his fame and only wants people to know him for who he is rather than the Boy-Who-Lived?" the third girl said. "Yeah, we've noticed. Pity that the Weasley girl hasn't. She's still figuring out how to get him to get the hots for her."

"She's still at it?" the second girl inquired. "We've been here four years and we already know she'll never have a chance without a love potion or ten." She paused for a moment. "Still trying to snog half the male population to get him to realize she's a girl?"

"Yeah," the first girl replied. "It'll get hard to find a guy who hasn't snogged her soon enough. Shame really, there are some good looking ones that got caught up. Don't want anything to do with them now. It's like they're tainted for me now." All three of them laughed at that.

_Intelligent fans,__then…_

Once upon a time Harry would've torn into them for their attitude towards Ginny but now he found he didn't care either way. He never held any attraction to the small redhead and probably never would, especially after what he had just learned and her attitude towards his friendship with Padma.

_Love potions, eh? So Hermione and I aren't the only ones who have thought of that. I'd better be careful around Ginny then,_ Harry thought.

More voices brought him out of his thoughts. This time it was Neville, Katie, Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender who came in all chattering away.

"Oi," Harry called out. All six new faces in the room, and the three fourth year girls whom Harry did not know, looked up and saw him. Five of the faces turned into grins and smiles of various types, while the three fourth years blushed and looked away, occasionally sending him looks out of the corner of their eyes. Strangely, Parvati's face grew sullen.

"Harry!" Neville called back. "Great to have you back." He hit the stairs and was giving him a 'manly' hug within seconds. Harry, surprised at the action, temporarily forgetting that this was a more confident Neville than the previous five years had shown, froze for a moment before returning the hug. After they released each other, Harry descended the stairs, shaking hands with Dean and Seamus, and receiving hugs from Katie and Lavender, to his surprise. Parvati waved her greeting before leaving for the girls' dormitories.

"She's not still mad at me for the Yule Ball is she?" Harry whispered to Lavender after she left. Lavender shook her head, her medium length blonde hair bouncing everywhere with her movement.

"No, she's just a bit…or very annoyed at you and her sister for being friends," Lavender explained. "She _used_ to have a thing for you, or at least the Boy-Who-Lived you." At Harry's raised eyebrow, she explained further.

"In the few days you've been gone, the school's changed a bit. Nothing major," she replied seeing Harry's instantaneous worried look. "More like everyone's starting to get that you are a person, not the idol everyone reveres. Your life is not like a celebrity at all. You're in danger quite a bit, aren't you?"

"It's taken most of the more than five years," Harry said while nodding. "Guess it's better late than never." Lavender gave him a small, awkward smile.

"I'd like to say that Parvati and I were two of the few that knew you were a person yourself but we were both caught up in the celebrity you. It's … complicated …"

"Nobody likes to talk about it," Dean continued for Lavender. "But we are aware of most of what happens in this place, always. Gossipers like Lavender here," Lavender slapped Dean in side of the head for that remark. "Help spread around any news." Dean finished, rubbing the spot he'd been hit.

Seamus took over. "And so everyone is becoming aware of whom everyone else really is, you know, where their loyalties lie."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry curiously.

"No offence mate, but you don't spend much time paying attention to anyone besides your friends," Neville said quickly. "Uh – how can I put this?"

"Ooo, I know, people are choosing their sides," Lavender responded enthusiastically. The other five sent her odd looks. "What?" she asked impatiently.

"At any rate," Neville said, turning back to Harry. "It's become more … open in the last few days. With the attack on the Express and now this one … well –"

"It was bound to come sooner or later," Seamus finished distastefully. "Are we done talking about this? This is not in my comfort zone." Harry couldn't agree more. This discussion wasn't something he ever expected to have with his housemates.

"How are you?" asked Lavender, ignoring Seamus. "Did you get hurt? Is that way you were away for so long?" She took a step forward and started examining Harry, as if she could see through his robes to any injuries he might have had on his skin. A disturbing thought.

"I'm fine," Harry replied uneasily. "Had to take a couple days off, but I'm fine now."

"What from?" pressed Lavender. Harry, out of the corner of his eye, noticed Dean and Seamus smirking at him. Oh, how they would pay for that. Neville merely had a raised eyebrow and Katie was still standing quietly, amusement in her eyes.

"You're not going to let me go until I tell you, are you?" asked Harry, defeated.

"Nope," Dean and Seamus replied at the same time.

"You're dealing with one half of the gossip queens of Gryffindor," Katie said brightly. "You just don't walk away freely from that." A couple of chuckles followed that statement.

"And here I thought I was the dangerous one here …" Harry muttered, earning a few more chuckles.

"Seriously? And who were you with? The Daily Prophet didn't give any description except for a woman," asked Lavender who was now picking at his robes, searching for injuries, probably for gossip. Harry had to resist the temptation to swat her away. It would be easier for her to just vanish his clothes if she wanted to check for injuries.

That was another disturbing thought.

"It's not going to get any easier is it? This year, this … war," Katie asked softly, saving Harry the trouble of not answering. The entire mood seemed to dampen instantly.

"Probably not," Harry replied in much the same tone of voice. It was strange to see this side of his fellow Gryffindors. Day after day he'd written them off under titles of gossipers or girly or typical males. He'd always been far too focused on himself and his own problems and adventures to really pay any attention to his fellow housemates. That was going to change, hopefully.

At that moment the Fat Lady's portrait swung open again and the bulk of the Gryffindors passed by, all too busy in their own conversations or thoughts to even realize Harry was present. That suited him just fine; he had already talked to the few Gryffindors that were figures in his life, minus Hermione. Speaking of which, where was she?

His eyes followed the groups as they sat down or returned to their dorms, before noticing three younger looking girls trying to discreetly catch his eye. He assumed they were the three he had overheard. He waved to them quickly, causing all three to briefly wave back, blush and then huddle closer.

_Probably saw me come down and now know I overheard them._ Harry figured.

"Ah and who are these three, Harry?" inquired Lavender, who quickly sidled up beside him.

"You're more likely to know than me," Harry quipped in response.

The portrait opened again while Harry and Lavender had exchanged these brief words. Harry turned to see who it was. Before he had even turned all the way around, he was hit by a truck … or, more accurately, a bushy-haired truck that knocked him clean off his feet. He landed with a thud, eliciting many laughs around the room and several 'welcome back's' from various Gryffindors, some even noticeably moving closer to listen in on the conversation sure to follow.

"Let him breathe," Neville chuckled. Harry looked up at Neville oddly; the line reminded Harry of Ron the summer before fifth year. There was a pang in his chest. He wasn't past what happened with Ron yet, but he would get over it.

"Goodness, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, letting him go and clambering to her feet. "I didn't mean to hug you that hard! Oh, Harry, are you alright? I mean, both from me and Diagon Alley. I was so worried. Where were you? Why did you take so long to come back?"

"Calm down, Hermione," Katie said, placing her hands on Hermione's shoulders. "Calm down, take a look, he's fine."

In fact Harry was still on the ground, recovering from the completely unexpected tackle hug, blinking stupidly. "Yeah, I'm alright, don't help me up," he said while getting to his feet.

"I think we'd all like to know where you were, Harry," Lavender stated seriously, though Harry could see a glint her eye. He understood what she wanted. Now that Hermione was here, a confidant, than there was far a greater chance at getting answers.

There were several nods from those within and outside of the conversation. Harry did not fail to notice many other Gryffindors, who weren't involved in the conversation, lean in, trying to eavesdrop.

"Sorry, but I can't tell you that," Harry replied. Seeing the put out looks on all but Hermione's faces he added, "It's not about trust or anything. I promised the owner not to give away the location." It was yet another half-truth. He did promise not to use Fleur's house a constant hideaway, and revealing that would endanger her.

The non-DA Gryffindors _were_ rather put out, especially Lavender, who looked like Christmas was cancelled. The news of where Harry had been would certainly be cause for a week's worth of chatter around the castle.

"Right then," Harry said more cheerfully, ignoring the unhappy looks. "I'd say Dumbledore probably wants to have a word with me so I may as well get it over with." Lavender, Neville and Katie bade him farewell, the first rather grudgingly, and Harry exited through the portrait hole. A second later, the door opened again and Hermione came through. Harry waited for her to sort herself out.

"Let's find a nice old classroom shall we?" Harry rhetorically asked. A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione had locked themselves in an unused room and cast a Silencing Charm on the doorway. As soon as that was done, Hermione grabbed Harry into a second hug.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried," Hermione whispered. "What happened?"

Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around, squeezed gently; reassuring her he was okay before pulling apart. It might have been wrong and unfair for him to think it, but it wasn't the same as being held by Fleur, even though this had been the best hug he'd ever gotten from Hermione. Fleur's had encompassed a bigger impact upon his soul.

"I was in Diagon Alley," Harry began. "Sirius' will reading ended up happening that day."

"Did Malfoy show up?" Hermione interrupted. "Just as he came into the Great Hall for lunch, he was whisked away and we didn't see him till dinner. He was angry, very angry."

"Yeah," Harry replied, then smirked. "He was hoping to get his paws upon Sirius' gold, but he wrote a will last year that gave everything to me, Tonks and Remus. Narcissa Malfoy tried to contest the will but was shot down. She left in a huff. Then she and Bellatrix attacked me outside the Apothecary."

"It was Bellatrix?" Hermione inquired. "The paper only said that you were with an unidentified female and were attacked by Narcissa and a 'horribly ugly woman'. There was nothing about the state you were in, where you were, your companion's name or description."

Harry laughed at the accurate description of the woman Bellatrix had transformed into. "She used a Polyjuice Potion to get inside Diagon Alley. Unfortunately Narcissa picked a hair from a 'horribly ugly woman'.

The smile left his face, replaced by a solemn expression. "This proves that Voldemort can get in anywhere, now that he's using Polyjuice, unless…"

"Unless?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Unless the two of them acted alone," Harry grew thoughtful a moment. "The attack was a disaster for them. It was completely unorganized. They were hidden in a small alley between two shops, with a Silencing Charm, but Narcissa Malfoy did nothing to hide her own identity. I couldn't hear them talk though I could see and notice that she was talking, or arguing, with someone privately. There seemed to be no tactic but to wait and attack me when I went to leave the Alley. Not to give the enemy compliments, but Voldemort is smarter than that."

Hermione put on her problem solving expression. She bit her lip and started pacing. "Narcissa was caught, by the way. There's been no news on when her trial will be. Was it you who Stunned her?"

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Then the tall, blonde woman you were with?" she prodded.

"Yeah," Harry replied, then paused and stared at Hermione. From what Lavender had said ten minutes ago, there was no description except for a woman. While he was surprised that nobody gave a description of the part-Veela like he had thought, meaning she was safer than she could've been, and Bellatrix had never met the Beauxbatons Tri-Wizard Champion before, Harry was shocked to see Hermione fishing him out for details instead of just asking. That wasn't like her at all.

"You have something you want to ask?"

"Of course I do, Harry! Who were you with? Where did you go? Why are you being like this?"

Harry couldn't explain why he wanted to keep his trip to France and what happened to himself. In part he thought it was because he was afraid he might tell Hermione everything, including the more private activities, had he started to say anything. There were some things that were private, even amongst friends, and that was definitely something he wanted to keep private.

"Are you telling me that you have told me every secret you hold?" he asked, stalling until he could figure out what to say.

"Of course not," she responded in puzzlement. "Not things that are personal. But what's that got to do with this? You're not saying …?"

Harry started to panic. This was exactly the direction Harry did _not_ want this conversation to go. "No, no, not at all," he assured her. "It's just that … I haven't felt like telling you things recently."

Hermione frowned, trying to understand this reluctance, and comparing it with her own similar feelings. "Are we alright Harry? You and me?"

Harry didn't need her to elaborate any further. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

"Quite clearly there's still something between us." Harry replied. "Whatever it is, potion, spell, whatever, it's still in effect." Hermione didn't respond.

"Are you sure that waiting for whoever it is to make a mistake is the wisest move?" Harry prodded. "This will get messy, I can feel it. Why not just go to Madame Pomfrey? We can pretend that there's problems between us, can't we?"

"I doubt it, Harry." Hermione said sullenly. "For almost five years we've been close. Can you expect us to act like we're falling apart without it actually happening? I don't think I can."

"So, you're saying that we should continue?" asked Harry warily. He didn't like the sound of this one bit. Did it matter if the person responsible was caught? Who knew what would happen before they were caught.

"What else can we do?" Hermione asked in the same sullen voice. "If it was a love potion then you should be dotting after whoever the focus is and your attention would be completely focused on them. Since you aren't, it's not any potion I know of. That leaves spells."

"I suppose a simple 'finite' isn't enough?"

Hermione shook her head. "'Finite' only works on general spells. For something to affect us on such a fragile plane, at least that we're aware of, it's too complex to be solved by that. I won't be able to try anything without reading through a dozen books, trying all the cancellation spells I find. Then we might never find out who's doing this. With all the work I've got and the DA … I might not have time to get far."

"That means we have to let this play out their way?" Harry inquired hesitantly.

"Yes," Hermione replied after a moment's pause.

"I don't like this one bit," Harry informed her. "Frankly, the plan blows."

"I don't either but I don't have any better ideas, do you?" she countered testily. Harry paused, and then shook his head, not having a better idea. He trusted that Hermione would not let this get too far.

"But we've gotten off track here," Hermione pointed out. "Please, what _can_ you tell me?"

Harry thought about which things he could reveal without giving away anything of what _did_ happen between Fleur and himself. "First of all, you know I had an Order guard with me, right?" Hermione nodded. "So, who do you know who is a tall, blonde woman, who is in the Order, and who might be the logical person to escort me to Gringotts?"

This time Hermione managed a self-deprecating smile. "Fleur, of course. I can't believe I didn't figure that out." She paused a moment, then carefully phrased her next question. "Can you tell me why you went into hiding?"

"I had to heal. I don't trust the Weasley's at the moment, so I didn't go to the Burrow. It's also too obvious for the Death Eaters, and I wouldn't put it past any of the future Death Eaters here to try something." Harry answered truthfully. Hermione stopped pacing.

She turned to him and asked, "You were injured?" Harry nodded. "How?" she asked a bit softer.

"What's Bella's favourite curse?" Harry asked darkly, crossing his arms. He was just thankful his arms were clear and healed again. Burst blood cells in his eyes wouldn't help her worry less over him.

Hermione's face darkened equally in recognition. "Oh…"

"That's the one." Harry replied shortly.

"How long?"

"Ten seconds apparently."

"Apparently?"

"You don't have the luxury of counting while under the curse," Harry said dryly.

"Right. So Fleur told you?"

"Yes, she took care of me till I got better," Harry explained. "Then we went to buy me some better Muggle clothes."

"Where was that?"

"That, I can't tell you. I promised."

Hermione tried to hide her expression of disappointment, and largely succeeded, but Harry still caught it.

Instead of dwelling or forcing the issue, Hermione crafted another question. "So, I can assume that Fleur took you to wherever you were hiding?" Harry shrugged noncommittally and she hastened to add, "That's all right, you don't have to say. I'm sure she … if she _was_ involved that is … that she saw to it that you were well taken care of."

Harry fought to keep his face passive. 'Well taken care of' was an understatement! He desperately needed to change the subject.

"I got my Apparition License," Harry blurted out. Hermione rounded on him, her other concerns forgotten.

"What? How? Don't you have to be of age?" rushed Hermione, eyes wide and sparkling with interest.

"You've already answered the question, Hermione dear," Harry replied, smiling.

Hermione blushed for a second. "You're of age? How?"

"Sirius made me his heir. By being the last in the Black family line, and past sixteen, I am automatically of age. But don't tell anyone. Only you, the Head Goblin, and one other and a few Ministry workers who can't say a thing without losing their magic, know."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said sadly.

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry placated. "I've made my peace with it. I don't blame myself at all. I blame the people involved."

Hermione looked like she wanted to hug him again but was holding back. It was probably better that she did restrain herself after everything. Hermione then furrowed her brow.

"The Goblins were pretty nice," Harry continued.

"I've read they are business focused and don't care for anything but the formalities," Hermione countered.

Harry shrugged. "I have a fair bit of money, surprisingly, maybe that's why."

"Honestly, Harry, don't you know anything about your family?" reprimanded Hermione. She paused, eyes widening as soon as she had finished. "Oh, I didn't mean it to come out that way. I meant their past, family history, not –"

"It's okay, it's okay," Harry placated her, hands raised in calming gesture. "I know what you meant. And what do you mean?"

"The Potters, Harry, were important in the many small time, yet successful businesses that really took off in the early to mid twentieth century." Hermione explained. "It should come as no surprise that you have a fair amount of money …" she paused, took a breath and added quietly, "especially when your vault has been untouched for so long."

"That's what … Fleur figured." Harry replied, hesitating a moment before he said the woman's name. He still was wary, wary that he was say too much. Consequences were bound to come, but this would be a little sooner than he had envisioned earlier in the day.

"There's something else," Harry said slowly, trying to distract Hermione and to move onto the next point. "A passage in my parents will is missing."

"Missing?" asked Hermione. "How? Why?"

"I can only guess, but I have several suspects. Chief among them is Dumbledore."

"Why would Dumbledore hide your parents will, Harry?" Her disbelief was audible.

Harry shook his head. "I've only got guesses on that, too. He was the last noted viewer, according to the Goblins. But the main point at this point is that I don't trust him anymore. I can't. He's not straight with me."

"You're going against Dumbledore?" Hermione asked, slightly frightened at the prospect.

Harry shook his head again. "Not really. I just won't rely on him anymore. I'll have to continue as if he isn't around. Nothing will change, really. I simply won't run to him whenever something happens. I have my own group of people that I can turn to now."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Hermione asked brightly, pushing aside her questions. "We need to start training then don't we?" Harry stood shocked for a moment, and then smiled at her. He held out his finger and then realized that the ring was still with his packages, for Fleur had removed it when she divested him of his robes while unconscious on his arrival. "Oh right," he said. "Still with my new clothes,"

"I'll get it," Hermione said immediately. "You'd better go visit Dumbledore now. Hurry back to the Room." Hermione spun on her foot and unlocked the door. Harry removed the Silencing Charm and followed her out. They went their separate directions, both hoping that whoever was influencing them would make a mistake soon, for if they didn't, things would get very, very messy.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Not long afterward, Harry found himself in Dumbledore's office. It looked the same as always, with the elderly wizard sitting across from him, observing his every move. Thanks to several similar examinations over the years, Harry was able to remain impassive and not squirm under the scrutiny of Dumbledore's gaze.

"Welcome back, Harry," Dumbledore said in a friendly tone. "It's nice to know you are safe."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied politely. There was a moment silence.

"May I ask why you did not check in with the Order?" Dumbledore asked.

"You are the one who is adamant about sending as few owls as possible," Harry said calmly. "I sent a note to Hermione. It said I was fine and that I'd be back in a few days. I thought that was enough. Owls get intercepted, don't they? Putting my location on the note wouldn't have been a smart move."

"Ah, yes, Miss Granger showed me your note. And yes, I understand your reluctance to give away your location so easily." Dumbledore smiled at him. Whether it was something he had never done before, or Harry was just now aware of it due to his mistrust of the Professor, or even his own paranoia, Harry could sense something off about him. Despite his smile, there was something else behind there; something much more secretive and something that Dumbledore didn't want known. It unnerved him greatly.

"Still, Harry, I am shocked that you did not trust the Order to help you," Dumbledore continued.

"I was safe, sir. That's all that matters."

"True enough." Dumbledore said jovially. Harry noted the completely lack of visible surprise at his refusal to respond. Looking around the room, he noticed Fawkes was absent.

"How is Fawkes?" Harry asked suddenly, actually interested to know where the Phoenix that had saved his life was.

"Quite well, Harry," Dumbledore said cheerfully, seemingly quite touched that someone would ask. "He has recovered well from his unexpected death, saving me from Tom's Killing Curse. A couple weeks ago he regained the ability to teleport."

"That's good to hear," Harry replied half-heartedly. He looked back to the Headmaster.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Dumbledore asked concernedly. Harry nodded.

"Just a headache and tired, sir, it has been a long day," Harry replied.

"Are you quite certain that you can't tell me where you were hiding, Harry?" asked Dumbledore again. "Knowing where you are for next time may save us a lot of worry and trouble."

"Sorry, sir," Harry answered. "But I don't think I'll even be going back there again."

"I see," Dumbledore said softly. He took a lemon drop and popped it in his mouth. There was a small silence.

"I understand the need for discretion in these times, Harry. I won't ask again; however I hope that next time I can be a trusted confidant for you." Dumbledore gave Harry a small smile. "How is Miss Delacour? The Order is unaware of her whereabouts as well."

"She's fine, as far as I know, sir," Harry replied, quite honestly in fact. "She wasn't injured."

"That is good to hear."

"What's happened with Narcissa Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore was pensive for a moment. "Narcissa Malfoy was found at Diagon Alley with her wand beside her. Using back tracing spells, it was discovered that Mrs. Malfoy had cast a variety of Dark spells."

"Has she been put on trial? Is she going to Azkaban" questioned Harry rather impatiently. _She better not have gotten off…_

"I am unsure," Dumbledore said honestly. "The trial is later in the week at an undetermined time. The result …" he surveyed Harry for a moment. "… is as unknown as our future."

Harry raised an eyebrow. From what he knew, his immediately future was not very unknown. Fight, either kill Voldemort or die trying. That was pretty straightforward. A hidden message, perhaps?

"Is that all, sir?" Harry asked.

"One more thing, Harry," Dumbledore said in his sagely voice. "With the attack on you in Diagon Alley, I feel the need to step up your lessons. Next Saturday at eight p.m. is free I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said. He then got up and walked out, closing the door with a click.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Dumbledore sighed.

Harry had been less than receptive to his questions. Something seemed to have changed. He was polite still, there was no indication of anything wrong with him, yet there was something … off … about their conversation. He answered his questions bluntly and didn't care to elaborate any further that was necessary. Simply, he wasn't volunteering information.

Frustrated and worried at the same time, he had foolishly tried to penetrate the younger man's mind. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Harry had turned aside both times he had attempted to use Legilimency.

Using Legilimency on students came with so many moral problems. He appreciated the need for secrecy, even on the same side, and had never, until the previous day, had to use it on his own allies.

Dumbledore rose to his feet and stood next to his phoenix's perch, where Fawkes would normally stand if he wasn't off delivering messages.

This wasn't good, not if he was being pushed to do something so morally wrong twice in two days. And why was Harry being so indifferent? What had happened or what had he learned, that changed things so drastically between them?

Dumbledore sighed again.

All he wanted was to be aware of Harry, to keep him safe until it was time for the prophecy to be fulfilled.

Maybe he would open up if he stepped up his lessons?

Dumbledore hoped so. He had to keep the teen safe. He wasn't ready yet. There was still so much to tell him if he had any hope of defeating the Dark Lord.

Horcruxes were one.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry quickly made his way through the long corridors up to the seventh floor. His talk with the Headmaster had been awkward to say the least. There was just something about him that he had never been aware of, something that warned Harry that the man held many secrets. There was something he was hiding, something he should know, but what? Did it have something to do with the missing passage from the will?

His paranoid side wanted to believe the Headmaster was manipulating him. It wanted Harry to strike out, take down the man and demand to be told everything.

Harry's lighter side by no means thought Dumbledore as evil … at least in the traditional black and white sense; however it believed that he was fighting against Voldemort, only with his own agenda in mind. This only served as reinforcement to Harry's opinion that there were five sides in this war and that he'd made the right choice by creating his own.

Once outside the tapestry on the seventh floor, Harry thought of the room they used for practice, walked back and forth three times and went inside. Everyone was already there. Nobody had been talking, all awaiting Harry's arrival. All ten heads rose when he entered. Even Luna showed her pleasant smile before resuming her usual examination of everywhere in the room besides his gaze.

"I'll get the simple questions out of the way," Harry began before anybody else could talk. "I was attacked by Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville practically growled at the mention of Bella's name. "In Diagon Alley. Bellatrix managed to escape, yet again. I was injured in the fight and went into hiding till I was healed. I was healed by Monday morning but stayed in hiding to tie up a few loose ends. I can't tell you where I was because I promised not to. The same goes for who I was with. Any more questions?"

There was a stunned silence. Harry smiled. "Sorry, didn't want to go through the same set of twenty questions for a fourth time." Seeing nobody ready to ask another question, perhaps because of his entrance, Harry continued.

"The Headmaster of Hogwarts …" began Harry. "Hasn't been straight with me when he should have. For now at least, I no longer trust him for help."

There were several gasps. Luna looked up at Harry oddly and only Hermione's and Daphne's faces remained without visible reaction. "Before and again now he has information he should have told me, but hasn't and probably wouldn't have for awhile yet. He has also withheld vital information that would have saved lives had it been known sooner. You'll understand completely once I get the Pensieve in a few weeks."

"Now," Harry clapped his hands together, leaving a mostly stunned ten students to sort out that piece of information later. "We have a lot to learn this year, inside and outside of class. Let's get back to work."

For the next two hours, two hours that left Harry just about dead on his feet after his multi Apparition trip back to Hogwarts, he began to work all ten of his DA members and himself as hard as he could. There were a few grumblings from Ernie, but a glare from everyone, including Daphne, quieted his protests almost instantly. When faced with numerous glares, not including Daphne's, one would usually quiet down. When faced with Daphne's alone, one would definitely quiet down. She was quite effective at silencing people.

"The first new spell I want to work on is the Bone-Breaking Hex. Nothing particularly new or outrageous, yet it is something, as far as I know, you don't know and is useful." Harry paced in front of the ten students before him, all sporting bruises or ruffled up in some manner. Over the past hour, Harry had duelled each of them reviewing the Stunning and Disarming spells, the Reductor and Cutting Curses and the Impedimenta Curse, and the Patronus. Daphne was the only one of the eleven yet to have one; Su had been taught it at her home according to Padma. It had taken her much of the fifty minutes Harry wasn't testing her other spells to form the basic mist that marked the first stage of the spell.

When Harry asked her what happy memory she was thinking of, and if she had any happier ones that the one she was using, he had only become the recipient of one of her infamous glares.

Whatever the reason the glare was for, Harry had to wonder how many happy memories the girl did have.

"Naturally the spell is designed to break one's bones, rendering the target in a fair amount of pain and, if aimed well enough, incapacitate them from the duel…" Harry paused and thought for a moment. "Unless Death Eaters know any Healing magic. This is rather unlikely, in my experience."

"This'll be easy," Ernie muttered, smiling to himself.

For a second time in the Room of Requirements, Ernie found himself slapped in the back of the head by two women, this time Padma and Daphne.

Padma, Susan and Hannah, slightly shocked at Daphne for joining in, stared at the blonde Slytherin for a moment, who returned their questioning gaze with a small smirk.

Harry, who had merely ignored Ernie's arrogant comment, joined in the staring at Daphne.

Before long, everyone was, including Luna, who seemed to be staring because everyone else was.

"What?" Daphne said scathingly at Harry, looking him in eye. "Aren't I allowed to take part in any of this because I'm a Slytherin?"

Surprised and slightly ashamed, Harry looked away, as did mostly everyone else, cleared his throat and continued his explanation. Once Harry started talking again, everyone refocused on him, Padma occasionally glancing at the sole Slytherin amongst them curiously. Daphne continued to pay attention to Harry not responding to the dark skinned Ravenclaw's gaze.

"…enabling one to quickly dispatch an enemy quickly," Harry continued his explanation. "From there, we can use the spell within other strategies to increase effectiveness."

Stopping his pacing and turning to face the group, Harry clapped his hands together. "Enough talk. It's magic time."

Despite Ernie's earlier boasts, his first performance was far less than stellar. Stepping forward to be the second to cast the spell, behind Harry, Ernie raised his wand, a superior smirk on his face.

Silently, as it wasn't entirely Harry's prerogative to cast spells silently, Ernie cast the Bone Breaking Hex.

With a small noise, the spell erupted from the end of his wand and rocketed through the air, quickly closing the distance between himself and the testing dummy the Room had provided at Harry's request.

The spell collided with the dummy with a soft crack, a few chips falling to the ground. Harry stepped forward to examine the dummy.

"You realize this dummy is wood, right?" Harry told the group. "Ernie," he added exasperatedly, "Your spell barely cracked this wooden dummy. I don't think that would've done more than give a human a bruise."

Furious, Ernie cast the spell a second time without waiting for Harry to move out of the way. Silently casting a shield, Harry deflected the spell with childish ease. A long silence followed.

"Are you quite finished?" Harry asked him with calm anger at last.

Realizing that he had just about hit Harry in his loss of control, Ernie took a step backwards, his face flaming red.

Susan and Hannah were about to rip into Ernie for attacking Harry so foolishly when Daphne placed her hands on each of their shoulders. She shook her head once the girls turned around.

"Sorry, I let myself get carried away," Ernie apologized after a moment. "It won't happen again."

"It better not," Padma said darkly, wand in her hand threateningly. "We're on the same side here."

Hermione watched the interaction of the DA members from the side. She knew Harry was very capable of blocking or deflecting the weak Bone Breaking Hex that Ernie had cast and therefore wasn't worried or surprised with how the situation turned out. Inwardly, she was proud of Harry for not lashing out at Ernie for his carelessness. Hopefully the Hufflepuff would learn to control or remove his arrogance from his personality. Arrogance could get people killed.

But another part of her was worried, worried about what would happen if Ernie _did_ lash out in anger again. It reminded her far too much of Ron and what he did, or may have done, in his anger.

Daphne stepped forward, pushing Ernie aside roughly to show her distaste for his actions, causing him to stumble and nearly fall to the ground at the sudden movement, to take her turn at the spell.

Seeing Daphne's intentions, Harry waved his wand and the crack in the dummy disappeared. He took half a dozen steps back and waited for the Slytherin to cast the spell.

With a flick, the same spell sped past Harry and collided with the dummy's shoulder, ripping the wooden arm right off the dummy and splintering the shoulder. The arm collided with the wall five meters behind the dummy with a rather loud thud and fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

Smirking, Daphne turned and made her way back to the end of the line.

Not entirely surprised, Harry, Hermione and Padma grinned to themselves. Oh how things were changing in the minds of the group. It would take time, but hopefully it wouldn't be much longer before Daphne was as well accepted as the rest, Slytherin or not. One could not deny how strong, devious and dangerous the blonde could be when working for the right cause.

By the end of the meeting, everyone considered themselves already improved from their previous abilities. Ernie had quieted down and seriously concentrated on casting the spell the next time it came across his turn. He cast the spell aloud first, getting a similar result to Daphne's silent spell, and then silently a little later, breaking the arm off barely.

The rest of the group performed fairly similar with Susan, Hannah, Padma and Neville edging a little ahead of Su, Katie and, unsurprisingly, Luna. The year difference between the sixth years and the lone fifth year was evident in power levels; however her outrageous ideas for spells in her duel against Harry earlier had proven her to the group. It had taken Harry three minutes and a little help from Hermione and Padma, to completely remove all the boils and the rainbow colored skin he had been given thanks to the youngest DA member.

The non-prefects made a mad dash to get back to their common rooms on time once the group stopped for the night. Padma, Susan (despite not being a prefect), Hannah, Daphne, (also, despite not being a Prefect), and Hermione remained behind, waiting for Harry.

"I'm sure you all have questions for me?" Harry said, seeing them all looking at him expectantly. "If you're going to try and found out whom I was with or where I was, I told you I can't. I'm not going to break a promise."

"It's not that, Harry," Padma said. "Well, that's one thing I want to know. I respect your promises so I won't ask about that. There's something else, something that you know about that tells you that we can't trust Dumbledore. I'm not stupid. Something has to have happened for you to not trust him anymore and before I can agree, I have to know why."

"That's right," Susan said, with more determination that he had ever heard from her. "I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say, we want to know. I'm certain the rest do too." She paused, and then added sheepishly. "They're more willing to wait, I guess."

Harry looked to Hermione, who simply shook her head exasperatedly. _Terrific, the one's we decided I could trust were also the smartest. I suppose that _is_ why I can trust them._

"Dumbledore's hidden things from me my entire tenure here at Hogwarts, and most recently I've discovered a passage in my parents will is missing." Harry explained. "I believe it was him. But regardless, the fact that he doesn't trust me enough to be honest and straight with me is damaging enough."

The group exchanged a few looks but appeared to take the explanation as it was.

"You'll understand more soon, I promise."

The group began their goodbyes after that.

"I'm glad you're alright," Padma whispered, a hand laid on his shoulder briefly before she took her leave. Harry just smiled at her sincerity.

Susan and Hannah gave him quick hugs as soon as Padma had stepped aside, which were nice. Looking up at Daphne, Harry just had to smirk.

"Going to give me a hug, Daphne?" he jokingly asked.

"Yeah, right, Potter."

And with that she left, Harry following with Hermione a moment later, a content smile on his face.

He was back.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry and Hermione climbed through the doorway to the common room together an hour later, after a patrol, to find Ginny waiting for them. As soon as she saw Harry, she stood up from her spot on a couch and approached him.

Harry hesitated. After hearing what he had earlier, he was very wary of the girl.

"Harry," she said quietly. "I'm glad you're alright." She was sincere, Harry could tell that, but that didn't make her motives any more right.

"It'll take more than two Death Eaters to do me in," Harry replied. Hermione punched him in the arm for that, a scowl on her face. "Ow, right, no talk about me and death."

Ginny smiled briefly between the two. She looked up into his eyes, catching them and holding the gaze. "I'm very sorry for what I said to you and Padma, Harry. I regret my mistake and hope I can make it up to you someday."

"Thank you," Harry said honestly, which surprised him. Something inside forced him to. As soon as he thought it, the thoughts vanished and Harry completely forgot about it. Shaking his head at the sudden emptiness inside, he finished off what he wanted to say. "You can start up apologizing to Padma as well." Ginny's face nearly winced but she controlled herself, though not well enough to prevent movement.

"Of course," she replied. "Goodnight, Harry, Hermione." She nodded to the both of them and climbed the stairs to her dormitory.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Did you see it?"

Hermione turned to Harry. "Unfortunately," she sighed. "I'm still not sure whether she did give me something, if she did anything at all, but she's probably one step away from trying something on you."

"I know," Harry replied tiredly. He was rather sick of the Ginny Weasley problem and constantly avoided thinking anything of it since the night when he first found out about it. Whether or not that was because of magical influence was another matter entirely.

"I overheard three fourth years talking about it. Her current plan, according to them, seems to be snog everyone in sight so I notice she's a girl. I'm pretty certain they were exaggerating a bit, but still. I already knew that she's a girl. I'd actually have to be attracted to her for that to work."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "Your apathy towards her advances hasn't stopped her yet."

"It should," grumbled Harry. "Just because my Dad was a fan of redheads doesn't mean I am."

"Oh, and what are you a fan of Harry Potter?" Hermione asked coyly, twisting her body to face him directly.

Harry found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. If he said blondes, then she would no doubt make the connection to Fleur. If he didn't, he'd be lying. Well … at least Fleur was one blonde he fancied. Lavender wasn't hard on the eyes but he had no feelings towards the buxom sixth year.

If anything, he was afraid of her.

In the end, Harry chose a more diplomatic answer. "Blondes, brunettes and dark haired girls."

That seemed to work for Hermione, who smiled and didn't question it … or didn't for a minute. "So you fancy Lavender do you?"

Harry stared at her in complete and utter shock. This was _not_ something the Hermione from previous years would normally say. She began laughing again at his expression. "Oh I was kidding, Harry."

"Right," Harry said, shaking his head. It should have been expected, well, not exactly this, but everyone around him was growing and changing, so she should as well.

"We'd better go to bed, with classes tomorrow and all."

"Goodnight, Harry. I'm glad you're back." 

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Harry climbed the stairs to his dorm and found Neville and Ron already in there. Ron saw him, nodded, but didn't say anything. Harry didn't say anything either. He had nothing to say to his former friend.

He bade Neville goodnight, closed his curtains, changed into something more appropriate for bed and Silenced his curtains. Once he had lain down, Harry realized he had forgotten to ask who had his Invisibility Cloak. He'd ask Hermione tomorrow.

Harry got under the covers and rolled over, feeling the expanse of the bed, not realizing it had been this big until now. He immediately began to miss Fleur's presence beside him. Three days was all it had taken him to be used to her and now he was without her for probably ever. He longed to feel her skin on his, her body against his, her lips on his own, her hands on his skin and his own on hers again.

It had been so different from his experience with Cho. This had a far larger impact on his body, mind and soul than the Ravenclaw ever did.

His thoughts drifted to Fleur's end. He started asking himself questions.

What was she doing? Did she feel the same? Was she longing for him as much as he was for her? Did she even think twice about him?

_No._ Harry immediately crushed that last thought. He knew her rather well now. She did care about him, at the very least in a platonic way before, and something a bit beyond that for her to kiss him.

Then there was Bill.

What was going to happen with him? Were they going to compete for Fleur? What would Bill do if, or when, he found out what had happened?

Right there and then Harry decided to go along with whatever Fleur would say. It was her decision and he had no influence on her final choice. What had happened was a miracle of happiness. Somehow, he would try to move on and consider what had happened the previous night to be his real first kiss.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The confrontation with Snape he had tried to avoid on his return came to fruition the following day in Defense Against the Dark Arts after lunch. His absence from the previous day of classes seemed to irritate Snape enormously, as the man wondered aloud how Harry managed to deal with classes and his adoration of publicity without conflict. Except, of course, this time they did conflict and Snape even criticised his multi-tasked skills. After several minutes of this, Harry finally snapped at earned himself a detention. Seemed he wasn't quite in control of his emotions as he wished.

Elsewhere, the entire school now knew of his return, if they hadn't already known it the previous night. He had a lot of greetings the morning after his return, even from people he had never even talked to before, some of which left him standing stock still in surprise. It was only a not so gentle push from Hermione that kept him on time for all his classes.

The three girls whom he had overheard the previous evening waved to him from down the Gryffindor table at breakfast that morning. Hermione questioned him about that. All he said was that they were the three he had overheard. He didn't actually know anything more about them, not even names.

Ginny had waved and spoken a cheery hello, obviously feeling that they had returned to their previous friendship. He took Padma aside at lunch and asked if she had apologized, to which she replied she had. He asked if it was sincere or forced, she said it was sincere. Unfortunately that made things harder. Ginny Weasley, Harry was sure, was now a girl who could lie through her teeth. She had a problem with the two of them still, he was certain.

At dinner that evening, Harry ate quickly and left before most other students. He was waiting for two people, to have words for both of them separately, for two entirely different reasons. Daphne was the first one to finish and leave. He caught her eye and climbed the stairs. Daphne followed a minute later. He led her to one of the many unused rooms that Harry was becoming very acquainted with lately.

After performing the mandatory Locking and Silencing Charms, Harry turned to Daphne. The tall, attractive blonde haired Slytherin met his gaze and cocked an eyebrow.

"Wanting to talk or is there an ulterior motive perhaps?" Daphne asked, smirking. She had a way with putting someone on the back foot early.

"Talk," Harry replied quickly, not trusting himself to not walk into a word trap.

"You sure there, Potter? If you wanted to see more, Harry, all you had to do was ask," Daphne told him, still smirking. Harry started blushed slightly, caught off guard.

_What's with all the wise cracking women lately?_

Harry coughed, attempting to leave that subject trail behind. "Right, well, like I said, that's not why we're here. I know you can't say anything because of the Oath, so I'm just going to tell you what I know. Whether it's helpful or not to you, I suppose I can't know."

Daphne nodded and waited for him to continue. "Malfoy is using the Room of Requirement. I don't know what he's doing in there, though it has something to do with a cupboard." Daphne's eyebrows flew upwards for a moment. "I'm on the right track aren't I?"

Daphne didn't answer, not that she could if she had chosen to.

"I recognize the cupboard but I can't place it." Harry had discovered this after thinking about it for a long time since the day he saw it. "That's all I got for now, but I can tell that I'm on the right track. That's all I needed to know. I don't know if any of that was news to you, it probably wasn't, but one way or another I am going to stop him. You're not alone in this, even if we can't communicate."

Daphne remained impassive for a moment. Then she let out a half smile. "Thanks Potter," she said, barely a trace of sarcasm in her voice.

She sent him a coy look, and appraised him as she walked a slow circle around him. Then she added, grinning and gently brushing her coverings, "You sure you don't want to see more?"

Harry stared, trying to determine if she really was playing with him or not. "I'm sure." It was better to be safe than sorry, especially with regards to Daphne Greengrass.

"Wise answer," she replied brightly. "_Very_ wise answer." And with that, their conversation was over. Everything was said that he wanted to say. He couldn't spend much time with her or someone would end up noticing she went 'missing'. Even if it was paranoia, Harry felt it necessary.

Then again, after Lavender, Dean and Seamus's words, he wasn't so sure it would be paranoid to think that way.

He bade her goodnight and let her leave. He left after a little while, to make sure anyone in the corridor had gone, and made his way down to the Ravenclaw common room. It was only once he neared the spot the two of them had talked last time that he realized he had forgotten to ask Padma where the entrance was.

"Terrific," Harry muttered when found himself at the same corridor as before.

"Reliving past memories are we, Harry?" Padma's voice came from behind him a moment later. She had just finished dinner and was returning from the Great Hall. "Come on," she said when he had turned to face her. "I'll show you where the common room is so you're not stuck out here every time."

Padma led Harry through several more corridors before arriving at a suit of armor next to a wall. There was nothing unusual about the area at all. "Cover your ears," Padma instructed. He followed the instruction and watched the suit of armour talk to Padma and Padma answer back. The suit of armour stood aside and Harry watched as a door materialized. Padma pulled his arms away from his ears and led him inside.

Harry took in the sight of the third of four Hogwarts common rooms. The Ravenclaw common room was round and filled with blue hangings and fat armchairs. Harry had entered in the corner farthest from the stairs to the dorms. The domed ceiling was painted with stars accurately representing their true positions.

_That gives them an unfair advantage in Astronomy…_ Harry thought ruefully.

On the wall in front of him was a fireplace, and also featured a bust of Rowena Ravenclaw wearing a short of crown or tiara above it.

"What is that?" Harry asked, pointing to the crown/tiara.

"That's Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. It's been lost for centuries though," Padma explained. "It's unfortunate. It's beautiful." Almost the entirety of the Ravenclaw students in the common room was now staring at Harry. He could feel the stares against him. He was in a place he didn't belong.

As if sensing his discomfort, Padma put a hand on his shoulder and said, "It's alright." She turned to the watching Ravenclaws. "I haven't told him the password, alright?" Most of the students looked at him strangely a bit longer before returning to their previous activities. Harry relaxed somewhat after most of the eyes left him. A few of the older ones continued to stare, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner giving him the most distasteful glares.

Padma tightened her grip on his shoulder slightly and led him over to a couch in a corner, away from most of the students. "Sorry," Padma whispered. "I didn't want to talk lying against that wall again. I had a crick in my neck for the entire night."

"No problem," Harry replied in the same volume level. "I don't think I'm very welcome though."

"Anthony and Michael?" Padma asked.

"Yeah. Anthony didn't seem to mind when I became a prefect, but I suppose this is kind of trespassing."

"Don't mind them. They're a pair of idiots," Padma said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She sat down on the couch, Harry sat down beside her. "Now that we're more comfortable, what can I do for you?" she paused. "That is if you were coming to see me …" she added a bit less sure.

Harry laughed. "Don't worry, I was after you."

"That's good. I just assumed ..." Padma waved her hand and looked away, a little embarrassed at her presumption, correct or not.

"I wanted to talk about your sister," Harry said. Padma looked up at him curiously.

"What's wrong with Parvati?" she asked, concerned.

"You don't know?" Harry said surprised.

"We haven't talked for quite awhile," Padma explained. "We don't generally talk that much at Hogwarts…" she finished somewhat sadly. Harry felt his heart go out to her. Sisters in different houses maybe, but they were still sisters. Losing that connection must be difficult.

"She was less than welcoming towards me when I came back," Harry began. "Lavender told me that she was somewhat upset with you and me for being friendly with one another. I wanted to ask you about it but I suppose I'm just letting you know."

Padma sighed. "She had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived for a couple of years I recall. I think it only ended after the Yule Ball." Harry winced at that.

"I'm never going to live that down am I?"

"Probably not," Padma agreed. "I suppose she thinks I'm betraying her now that we're friends. I'll talk to her about it."

"That's alright, just as long as you two don't fall apart because of this," Harry said. That was his prime concern here.

Padma shook her head. "She must still like you somewhat, whether the Boy-Who-Lived or you as a person I can't say. It's sad how few people can tell the difference."

"More admirers…" Harry muttered. "There isn't really a Harry Potter Fan Club is there?" he asked, hoping to God there wasn't.

"No," Padma smirked. "Though there probably will be now that you're a more mature, decisive and generally more appealing person." Harry fought the urge to blush. "After all the crap last year, the entire population knows you were the 'lone voice of truth'. You've never been more fanciable."

"Terrific," Harry repeated. "Absolutely terrific." That was just pure A-grade material for the Slytherins to use on him.

"As for my sister," Padma said on a more serious note. "Try and be nice to her anyway. She'll come around sooner or later."

"Right," Harry replied. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"I'd better go before I outlive my welcome," Harry said, nodding his head in the general direction of the same two males and the black haired, Asian seventh year that had just entered the room.

Padma winced. "Good idea. I think Michael hates you a bit for being with Cho, too."

Harry stared at Padma, unbelieving. "I thought the entire school knew the complete and utter catastrophe that so-called 'relationship' was."

"Has that stopped people before?" Padma countered.

"Touché," Harry replied. "Have a good night, Padma."

Remembering another message he wanted to give, Harry leaned in close. Padma's breathing sped up.

He was moving closer. Very close. It wasn't meters anymore, it was becoming centimetres.

As if in slow motion, Padma watched Harry's face draw closer. It only occurred to her when she heard his voice that Harry was just leaning in to whisper something. Even so, she shivered slightly when she felt his warm breath on her ear.

"The next meeting will probably be on Saturday afternoon," Harry added, whispering in her ear. He stood up, waved sheepishly and crossed the room, leaving Padma with her heart beating twice as fast as normal and a slight, but unnoticeable, color in her cheeks.

_Of course he wouldn't kiss me, especially not with everyone here, watching. What the hell was I thinking?_

Padma sighed, her mind asking another several dozen questions along those lines. It wasn't the first time that had happened either, or just with Harry. She refused to let it take control of her. There was no way she was going to turn into Parvati, no way.

_Stupid hormones…_

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry passed a few younger year Ravenclaws whom he had never known the names of, nodded at Cho who passed by him, surprised to see him there, and exited the common room.

"Harry!" a voice exclaimed as soon as he left the Common Room. Harry found Luna's bright, protruding eyes staring up at him. The year younger blonde was smiling at him. "How nice to see you here! Did you get stung by a Calderwall? They cause mild forgetfulness."

"Hey, Luna." Harry smiled at her. "No, I'm sting free. I just had to talk to Padma."

Luna continued to smile, her air of 'out there-ness' not dissuading him from liking her any less. If anything it drew him in. She was an outcast, like he had been until this year. Things were also changing for her. As far as he knew, nobody hid her belongings anymore. For whatever reason it was, Harry was happy for her. She didn't deserve the coldness and insults she received so often.

"You're a good teacher, Harry," Luna said suddenly. "Everyone trusts you. I told you before we went flying with the Threstrals, you aren't alone."

Oddly enough, that meant an unbelievable amount coming from her, someone relatively new in his life and someone so different. Harry, before he could help himself, wrapped Luna in a hug. She let out a soft 'Oh," of surprise before returning it. After a moment, he let her go.

"Thanks, Luna."

"I have to go now," Luna said, smiling serenely at him. "Goodnight, Harry. Watch out for the Calderwalls. It's their breeding season so there are a lot of them about." Harry just shook his head exasperatedly and watched her talk with the suit of armour, not taking in the words being spoken.

He now figured out that Luna, despite her constant serene smile and eccentricities, was simply lonely most of the time. She was a unique individual, one that deserved more than she received. Harry promised himself to make more of an effort with her once things settled down with him, Ginny and Hermione.

The sound of the suit of armour moving again disturbed his thoughts. Cho had exited the Common Room.

"Harry," Cho said quietly.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, unsure of where this going to go. He had told Fleur he wanted to talk to her … but not so soon.

"I just want to apologize for last year." Cho met his gaze and shook her head. "I don't think I was ready for a relationship after Cedric," she said with a wry grin. "I'm not going to start crying again, Harry." Harry visibly relaxed, after tensing up when she had mentioned Cedric.

"I've made my peace with him. I visited his grave, said my final goodbyes and am moving on. I needed to apologize for my role in what happened last year. I don't expect friendship, since we may never be friends; I just needed to say that."

Cho lowered her gaze, suddenly very self conscious. "Thanks for listening." She turned to go.

"Thanks, Cho," Harry replied. He had no feelings for the Asian beauty anymore, but he didn't hate her. "That means a lot." He might've stretched that a bit, but it did mean something to him. "I'm sorry too, for what I said."

Cho smiled shyly and practically ran back into the Common Room. Harry just shook his head and left before any other Ravenclaws could ambush him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry found himself lying in bed awake once again. He missed Fleur's presence immensely. After a lifetime without a physical presence like that, hers had ignited something within him that desired it, needed it. But it wasn't simply the body; it was the voice, the personality, the laugh.

There were long nights ahead.


	11. First Fight

**A/N:** Thanks to chem. prof as always for making this chapter far more readable than it otherwise would be.

_**Chapter 11: **__**First Fight**_

Over the next three weeks, which passed quickly, Harry assimilated back into life at Hogwarts. Between his classes and extra lessons, Harry would read through Hermione's third and fourth year books, mastering the spells one by one, and reading her notes on the lessons they had so far. The influx of knowledge was beginning to become difficult to absorb, but he persevered. He could scarcely believe the rate he was learning the spells now that he was putting his whole mind to the task.

His extra lessons with the Professors resumed the Thursday after he returned. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn welcomed him back warmly and went straight back to work teaching him increasingly advanced and difficult spells and potions.

Snape was, of course, the exception.

"Now that you've decided to return from your mid-term vacation, Potter, maybe you would like to learn?" Snape sneered.

"I'm waiting for you to start teaching me," countered Harry impatiently. "Perhaps when you're ready?"

Naturally, Harry's response earned himself a few bruises by lessons end. Snape did not cover anything new. Instead, he retreated over what they had already learnt while occasionally firing spells off at him randomly. It did test his reflexes, but Harry did not like this method of teaching. Snape would always counter his protests by saying Death Eaters were likely to do the same.

Unfortunately, for the whole three weeks this treatment continued. Harry did not learn anything more of use, rather only got his reflexes finetuned and his patience tested. After the third full week without anything new, Harry took action.

"Professor," Harry said to the Headmaster in his office. "I request that the lessons with Snape end."

"Professor Snape, Harry." Dumbledore admonished.

"No, sir, its Snape," Harry countered firmly. "Calling him Professor is a sign of respect and general courtesy, neither of which I hold, or will hold for him." Dumbledore, for one of the first times Harry had even seen, looked surprised.

"Harry, this isn't like you. What is the real issue here?"

"For the last three weeks, since I returned, Snape has taught me nothing new. He has gone over what we have already learned three times, occasionally pausing to cast a curse at me out of the blue. All I'm doing in there is getting my reflexes and my patience tested. Before you try and defend him, he shows me no respect. He spends half the lesson insulting me, putting me down, attempting; fruitlessly I might add, to get my spirits down. It is simply a waste of time for both him and me." Harry paused for a moment. "As for his title, I will call him Professor or sir when he starts calling me Mr. Potter and not just Potter, and he stops insulting me and my father every other minute."

Dumbledore was pensive for a long moment. The change in Harry was remarkable over the past few months. He was direct, he was confident. He knew what he wanted and he sought it out, even if he had to step on a few toes in the process.

"Surely you are exaggerating?" asked Dumbledore diplomatically. "I'm certain Professor Snape has a reason behind his methods?"

"I'm sure he does, sir," replied Harry. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I just don't believe it's the same reason you do. He's given me no reason to trust him, and no reason to respect him. At this point, our lessons serve no purposes but to degrade an already tenuous relationship."

Harry continued, before Dumbledore could respond. "I am very grateful for the effort you put in to organising these lessons for me, sir. However, I cannot learn from a man whose blind hatred for my father clouds his judgement. I managed to get an Outstanding OWL last year in Defence, and that was almost entirely on my own. I can continue forth on my own this year, too."

The entire encounter left Dumbledore a little off balance. The changes in the boy were not entirely unexpected, but the extent of which, from the loss of his godfather, was. The boy was growing up.

"Sir?" said Harry. "Your answer?"

"I'm very sorry to hear that you wish to discontinue your lessons with Professor Snape," said the Headmaster. "If you insist, I will let him know."

"I do," said Harry. "Thank you, sir."

Ending Snape's lessons served more than one purpose. The new free time enabled more time for the DA to meet, and Harry took advantage of that fact. With the extra time, the DA now met three times a week, and for several hours. It was hard work, but the effort was paying off.

Harry worked his hardest to relate whatever he learnt in his extra Charms and Transfiguration classes to the other DA members. He taught them everything he knew that would be useful in duels with Death Eaters, werewolves, Dementors, and even a spell or two for giants, including the Conjunctivitis Curse. Giants were an unlikely threat, but Hermione insisted on being at least a little prepared for them.

Unfortunately, personality conflicts still got in the way in their training.

Despite being outshined by everybody while casting the Bone Breaking Hex, Ernie still maintained much of his pomposity and arrogance.

While learning a spell to use against werewolves, one that created a silver projectile in the form of a rod or needle (christened the Silver Curse by Daphne), Ernie managed to mess things up a second time.

"Wave your wand like this," Harry motioned in a downward arc before flicking his wrist to the right. "And think of the incantation." Harry repeated the motion, concentrating on the spell. A sharp rod of silver ejected from his wand and flew across the room, penetrating deeply into the chest of the same wooden dummy from before. Once the silver rod finally stopped its progress, three quarters of the rod had pierced through the wood with only a small bit remaining visible on this end.

The power behind the spell was considerable, at least in comparison to the majority of the other DA members. However, Harry appeared to be pushing himself the most, inside and outside the DA, and the result wasn't surprising.

Padma had taken her turn next, casting the spell perfectly, with pin point accuracy, penetrating the wooden dummy with a rod only a few centimetres shorter than Harry's. Satisified, she smiled at Harry and went to the back of the line.

Susan had taken up the challenge next, her own spell manifesting as a rod thinner than Harry's and Padma's but far faster. To her delight, her own spell managed to penetrate slightly further than half way into the target.

Elated, Susan clapped her hands together and gave Harry and Hannah a quick hug, startling the former. Realizing what she had done, Susan quickly walked to the back of the line and hid herself from view.

Hannah, laughing at her friends' embarrassment over her loss of self control, took the next turn. Her own silver projectile turned out to resemble Susan's except it was slightly thicker and slower. Her shot connected with the dummy's shoulder, stopping about mid-way through the wood.

Hermione stepped forward next, her expression a mask of concentration. Her repeated losses against Harry in their duel had hurt her pride a little, even though she knew Harry was a superior dueller while she was more focused on knowledge not action, and she wanted to perform as well as anyone for Harry's sake as much as her own.

With the correct wave of her wand, Hermione cast the spell silently and was very pleased to discover her own silver weapon erupt from her wand and manage to delve two thirds of the way into the dummy.

Hermione lowered her wand and gave Harry a brilliant smile, evidently pleased with her performance. Harry returned it in kind.

Then, it was Ernie's turn. His determination was clear in his movement and expression, to outshine the four females who'd gone before him. The expression was the first warning sign.

Wary of what had happened last time Ernie was like this, everyone took a step back, Harry taking several more as he was in the most danger from his position. Not noticing the sudden retreat from his fellow DA members, Ernie raised his wand and cast the spell.

Predictably, the silver projectile flew towards the dummy and collided with it. It was what happened next that went wrong.

Ernie's silver weapon looked like each of the other's in general, however it was the shortest of the lot so far at a mere five inches. While the size of the weapon didn't matter as much as how much damage it would inflict upon the werewolf, the problem with that was that the silver rod only entered half way.

Harry, having taken a few steps forward to examine the wooden dummy, had to quickly retreat a moment later as a disgusted Ernie cast the spell a second and third time to receive much the same result. The only difference was his aim was far worse, the third one even missing completely and clanging against the wall a meter in front of Harry.

Without missing a beat, to try and ensure nothing more would happen, Harry faced the Hufflepuff. "Calm down, Ernie," Harry warned him. "You need confidence to perform spells correctly and to their full potential, but overconfidence is just as bad as none. Your spells become erratic and less effective the more frustrated you get."

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had often told him this, ensuring that Harry remained level-headed and in perfect control of his magic to use it to his full potential. Overemotional wizards' magic was unpredictable. This was evident in Harry's childhood accidental magic, and because of that he found the explanation to make perfect sense.

Whether Ernie absorbed Harry's words or not nobody knew.

"Ernie," Neville said as stepped forward to offer his own advice.

Again, whether Ernie heard or absorbed the words, nobody knew. He erratically waved his wand, casting the spell a fourth time. Neville had to jump backwards to avoid being hit by a wildly thrown elbow.

The silver rod was another failure, missing the target completely. Harry banished the dummy into the spell's path, the rod impaling itself in the wood.

"Are you quite done?" asked Harry quietly, menacingly.

"Put it back, Harry," Ernie replied impatiently. "This is how it works. I'm sure of it. I just need another go."

Neville, attempting a second time to get Ernie's attention, walked up behind him and laid a hand on a shoulder.

"Ernie, mate, calm down, some spells are trickier than others," Neville placated him. Ernie, ignoring him, pushed Neville aside. Unprepared for the physical force, Neville stumbled backwards and only managed to stay upright when Katie caught and steadied him.

"What was that for?" exclaimed an angry Katie.

Still ignoring everyone else, Ernie straightened, aimed and fired his fifth attempt at the spell. The dummy, which Harry had just replaced in its original position, was hit by a silver projectile in the right forearm. The result was little better than his original attempt.

"Enough, Ernie," Harry spoke sternly. He stepped in front of the dummy, eclipsing it from the boy's view.

"Out of the way, Harry," Ernie said forcefully, gesturing at him to shove off to the side. "I can do this."

"Ernie, stop it," Susan called out from behind him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" echoed Hannah.

Harry briefly glanced at the others, who were standing aside for their own safety reasons, although their wands were drawn. Curious though, was the calm disposition of Daphne.

"One more try," said Ernie, raising his arm. "I got this." Seeing his intentions, Harry quickly moved off to the side, out of the line of fire.

In the end, it wasn't needed. Ernie cast the spell and it missed by a good twenty meters, this time not of his own fault. Surprising the lot of them was Daphne. Out of her relaxed stance she had taken several steps and pushed Ernie's arm aside, causing the spell to fire off in the opposite direction from where Harry had moved.

Ernie looked at Daphne with anger laced in his eyes. "What was that for?" he exclaimed.

"While your performance is lacklustre on your best days, MacMillan," Daphne began maliciously. "Had you been left to your own devices, the rest of us would be sending Potter here to the Hospital Wing."

"Let me go, snake," Ernie snarled, ignoring her words and shaking his arm, trying to free it from Daphne's grasp. Harry, quickly closing the distance between the rest of the group and the dummy, saw Daphne's eyes flash dangerously.

In three swift movements, Daphne twisted Ernie's arm backwards, causing him to manoeuvre awkwardly to escape the pain, quickly switched the arm that was holding on to him and finally grasped his robes around the neck.

"Care to repeat that?" asked Daphne in a falsely sweet voice. Even in his state, Ernie realized when not to antagonize the opponent.

Harry appeared beside Daphne. She sent him a glance, daring him to intervene. He had had no intention of doing that before she had intimidated Ernie into silence.

"Just leave it alone, Ernie," Harry told him, letting Daphne continue to hold him. She was far more relaxed now; however one knew that she would react quickly if Ernie tried anything.

"I know you're a proud person, Ernie, and not performing as well as others probably hurts. However, that does _not_ excuse you from losing yourself over something as silly as this. So what if your spell was a little weaker than the rest? Isn't practicing all about getting better, stronger? Who said a failure on your first try meant that you were weak?" Harry spoke calmly, quietly, resisting the near overwhelming urge to yell.

Ernie switched his gaze between Harry, Daphne and the rest, who all wore varied expressions, none too positive, minus Luna who looked the same as always. He relaxed slightly and stopped resisting. Daphne let go and shoved him aside, causing Ernie to stumble and fall to the ground.

"I don't know how you expect to win against Voldemort," Daphne said vehemently. Ernie, Susan, Hannah and Katie shuddered at the name. "When you cannot even control yourself around your allies," she continued, ignoring the shudders. "Or perform adequately at the most simple spells."

Susan and Hannah looked about to interrupt Daphne's dressing down, but Harry raised his hand in a halting gesture. Ernie needed this more than he needed to be defended.

On the floor, Ernie bowed his head and refused to look at anyone. He knew he deserved it, he'd very nearly hurt someone, yet his pride was willing him to talk back, not to accept that there were so many better than him at his own age or younger. Three times he nearly talked back but managed to control the urge at the last second. A small part of him was afraid, afraid that he would not survive if he wasn't strong, stronger than the five females before him had proven to be.

A quick glance at the rest of the group saw a number of disapproving looks directed at Ernie were still present. Harry sighed. He knew it would take a little while for everyone to get along with Ernie again. For the next week or two, he'd have to keep a tight leash on Ernie to prevent him making any other mistakes. It wouldn't do to have a falling out amongst themselves when they hadn't even gotten out into the world yet.

Over the following week, Ernie had become uncharacteristically subdued. When he did speak, and only when addressed, there was the conspicuous absence of any arrogance or even his trademark pomposity. His responses were quick and concise.

For a long time Harry pondered this new development, wondering whether the Hufflepuff would, or had, changed because of his actions. His performance in the DA rose slightly after he quieted down and focused more on the spells than what was coming out of his mouth.

Despite their personality problems, the progress of all eleven of them was rather astounding. Daphne and Su had not been a part of the DA the previous year, yet they were managing to keep up with new and old material just fine, even though they did have to learn a few spells the others had already learned from the previous year. If someone had told Harry last year that in two months, he would have a mildly well powered mini-army of his own; he would've scoffed and said the person was dreaming. Right now though, that's pretty much what he had.

Everyone got along reasonably well, aside from Ernie's occasional arrogant fits. Daphne kept her less desirable attitude in check for the most part and had managed to very slowly gain a bit of trust from each of her fellow students. More so than the rest, Harry had learned to trust the Slytherin. It wasn't complete trust. That was something that would take more time. Why he did was something he couldn't honestly say. There was, underneath the confrontational personality, a different person and Harry sensed that.

Still, some of those personality traits grated his nerves to a fine sheet. But she was a surprisingly genuine person every other time. Daphne was not one afraid to express her distaste for something, regardless of who it was directed at, including Harry himself.

It had taken her weeks before she had let down her attitude even the tiniest bit and not mouthed off at everyone. Deep down, Harry believed she was enjoying herself, whether mouthing off, learning or just proving how powerful she was. Due to old prejudices drilled into the brains from a young age, the rest were less receptive to her than Harry was, however she was managing to fit in to such a reasonable extent that there was little chance of internal problems stemming from her.

Su still barely uttered a word, preferring to use Padma as a medium to voice her thoughts when she couldn't get her point across to Harry or the others through her facial expressions and hand gestures.

Perhaps the most astounding person in the room had to be Luna. He had never seen her duel at the Department of Mysteries, though she had been the only one in Ron's group to remain unharmed when the six of them were separated. Her unique style of duelling, with a broad range of spells ranging from the usual standbys to other, less practical ones, rendered most people off balance. People didn't underestimate her anymore.

Progress was being made in other areas of significant importance, such as Occlumency. A few struggled to keep up, but, while not at adequate Legilimens, Harry had trouble breaking through everyone's protections. It would take years to truly master the Mind Art, but Harry was only aiming to keep the more subtle probes out. For the most part, their defences were adequate. Now all there was to do was wait for the pensieve.

Outside of the DA, Harry continued to improve his friendship with Padma and Luna, occasionally visiting them in the Ravenclaw common room after dinner, as well as Susan and Hannah who had, on occasion, sat with them for meals, most usually after classes they had together. In the Ravenclaw common room he still felt uncomfortable, but Padma insisted to meet there instead of her little hideaway every time the two of them wanted to talk. Anthony Goldstein had lost most of his dislike of Harry after the first few visits, mainly because most of the Ravenclaws genuinely had nothing against him being there as long as he couldn't come and go without an escort. Michael Corner still had a habit of glaring at him across the room. Harry couldn't help but wonder how he got all of his work done whenever he visited.

The biggest surprise in the Ravenclaw common room was Cho. She was unfailingly polite and friendly to him and he responded in kind, though their conversations were brief. Whenever this happened, Corner would give him a death glare which Harry ignored. When he asked Padma about the constant glares, she said that Cho and Corner had broken up after an argument soon after school started. The rumours were that Corner kept questioning her about Harry and his relationship with her until Cho just couldn't stand it anymore and ended it.

Harry wouldn't go as far to say that the two of them were friend. That was something that probably would never happen considering what had happened between them. However, they were no longer avoiding each other intentionally. Overall, it didn't matter that much, though it was nice to know he had one less person hating him in the school and to have closure on the entire affair.

Throughout the week he returned, he was pestered by three quarters of the school, asking where he was and what happened.

One person he had expected to see from, but didn't, was Malfoy. The absence of the threats, similar to what he had received after the Department of Mysteries the year before when his father had been captured, scared Harry more than he would ever have admitted. In a duel, Harry knew he would be able to defeat the bleached blonde ferret hands down. What scared him was the lack of retaliation, the lack of an appearance by his foe. That meant one thing.

Whatever Malfoy was up to was more important than his family pride.

And that had to be life or death important.

Over the month before Halloween, Malfoy was seen less and less by the DA members. He was steadily growing paler, somehow, and quieter. One time during Defense, Harry had purposely knocked into him. It had been his first close up look since he had Stunned the Slytherin, now three weeks prior. Harry noticed increasingly dark lines under his eyes. Whatever he was up to mustn't have been going well, but was important enough for him not retaliate.

Dumbledore's second private lesson was another memory. Harry had stepped into a memory of the Headmaster's and learned a bit about the orphaned Tom Riddle living in the Orphanage, where he found out about magic. After half an hour of back and forth speculation that followed, Harry had to admit that the Headmaster had an impressive deductive mind, even if his plans were not always stellar.

Their relationship was formal, which was entirely Harry's fault. The trust Harry held for the Headmaster had almost entirely vanished. He had not been forthright when he should have.

There was respect, but trust was different than respect. If he hadn't already, Dumbledore would notice sooner or later. Harry didn't have the attention span to try and maintain their former relationship. There was far too much else to think about. If the Headmaster decided to do something about it, he'd deal with it when the time came.

Voldemort's history was indeed interesting. Hermione agreed. Harry had taken to talking with her about everything again, except for his time in France. That remained something he would keep to himself as long as he could. Despite how interesting it was to learn the past of Voldemort, how exactly would this help defeating him? Harry was only learning some startling similarities between the Dark Lord and himself that he wished he had not known. There was one factor that kept him from becoming worried about these similarities, his choices.

Harry had chosen to become a Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat had said he would've done well in Slytherin, sure. That, however, didn't make him out to be another Dark Lord on the rise. He chose to become a Gryffindor, and therefore chose to be different to the young Voldemort.

Troubling, Harry found himself bothered by Hermione more than once. It was peculiar, usually occurring when he was close with his best friend, and didn't happen all the time, though it was picking up steam. There were feelings of distrust.

He was able to thrust aside the feelings, knowing that Hermione was trustworthy if anyone was. It was still troubling that these seemed to arise from nowhere.

Ron and Ginny were quite different in their attitude towards Harry. Ginny was genuinely nice to him, while Ron still avoided or didn't talk to him. In classes, Ron sat by himself whenever possible. Nobody bothered him and he didn't bother anybody. Quite often he was seen spending a lot of his time in his bed doing school work. He no longer had Hermione to help, nor Harry to joke around with and seemed to bury himself in his work because of that. The only time Harry interacted with him was during Quidditch practice which had started at the beginning of October.

In all honesty, Harry was very surprised that Ron managed to keep his spot on the team. There was more to the punishment that Ron had received than he knew of, yet his Quidditich position did not seem to be in jeopardy except through his own performance.

Practice was going well overall. Ron was performing as a Keeper, the two new chasers, Ginny and Demelza, were taking well to Katie's teachings, and the two new beaters were managing to hit their targets more often than not. Both still didn't have the upper body strength to perform at the top level but that would come with training throughout the year.

Although life was busy, nothing particularly important to the war happened until the third weekend in October. The Saturday was the first Hogsmede weekend. The first one had been postponed after the attack at Diagon Alley according to Susan and Hannah.

Filch, the ever sour Caretaker, was kept busy poking and prodding people with Secrecy Sensors. Harry found it odd that he was checking people removing Dark items from the castle, as that could only be a good thing, but wisely didn't say anything. Filch was temperamental on a good day. He wondered why the man worked here when he wasn't even a wizard.

Several painful pokes and prods later, Harry, rubbing several sore spots with his gloves, and Hermione were marching down the slope from the castle towards the gates to the castle. There were two reasons Harry wanted to go to Hogsmeade.

The first was for a break from the cycle of school work and constant training with the DA and McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn. The second was because of Slughorn. The oversized Potions Professor had stopped inviting Harry to his Slug Club dinners after he started the extra lessons; however he had, at the end of the last lesson, tried to ask him to a special Halloween dinner. Halloween had never been a good day for Harry, so he outright refused to do anything more to give the fates an opportunity to ruin another one of those cursed holidays.

At least that's what he told himself. Harry really found the Potions Professor to be unbearable outside the classroom.

Hermione on the other hand attended most of the dinners, only passing when homework or the DA would conflict. She claimed that they weren't all bad. Harry tried briefly to warn her all he wanted was future favors, since that was the purpose of the Slug Club to him, though couldn't dissuade her. She didn't trust Dumbledore implicitly anymore but had difficulty believing the same about any other teacher. One was shocking enough.

The darkened skies, covered with a thick layer of cloud, like it usually was for most of this time of year whether for rain or the snow season rapidly approaching, opened upon the Hogwarts students. Within a minute, the rain was at torrential levels. Harry cast the Impervius Charm on his glasses so he could see and ran into the town of Hogsmeade. Several dozen Hogwarts students ran with him, all seeking shelter from the sudden storm. A low rumbling noise indicated an incoming thunder storm.

The Three Broomsticks was the first building on the right past the train station. Most of the students made for the shelter the inn offered, and Harry joined them. He was already inside, dried off and warmed up, with two quick spells, when he realized that Hermione wasn't with him. His hands immediately went to the map, but paused, realizing he was in Hogsmeade, out of range of the map.

For some reason, all ill feelings cast aside, he was inexplicably worried for Hermione. It wasn't like they had never been separated before in the castle, but this was outside whatever safety the castle walls provided and something inside of him was ringing warning bells.

He scanned the customers in the Three Broomsticks, looking for the signature bushy hair that belonged to his best friend. She wasn't there.

The door opened behind him and someone barged past, nudging his side. Harry, not expecting the contact, stumbled and had to reach out to the wall to steady himself to prevent himself from falling. He pushed himself off, turned, about to mouth off at the inconsiderate person, and found nobody there. The person had vanished.

_Invisible?_

_Homenum Revelio._ Harry muttered.

A quick scan of the room deemed no newly visible adversaries or just plain rude people. Nothing had changed.

Whoever it was had either already left or had blended into the crowd too well.

Facing facts, specifically the fact that Hermione wasn't in the Three Broomsticks, Harry turned and threw open the door. He impatiently waited for two rain soaked students to walk inside that were at the door at the wrong time, and then exited.

The rain was harder than ever. Even with the Impervius Charm in effect, his vision was limited to mere meters.

Where was the last time he knew he was beside her? It was just before the storm started. He had just assumed she was beside or behind him when he took off when the storm began. All the other students were rushing to get out of the rain at the time; it wasn't careless of him to have not checked to make sure she was with him, or so he told himself.

He moved through the rain soaked village, sprinting between shelters, fruitlessly trying to find her. It was silly, really. She would already be inside.

_No._ She was outside. He was certain of it.

Harry continued for several minutes, completely at a loss for where in the town he was. He couldn't see anything clearly in the rain. Outlines of buildings on the opposite side of the main thoroughfare went in and out of sight; the occasional light that the lightning offered helped.

It wasn't until he was about to double back to where he had lost her that he saw something, a silhouette.

He could barely make it out through the rain, as whoever it was, was on the opposite side of the road. There was definitely someone there, though. Even if his eyes had betrayed him, he could feel it. It was the same feeling he felt about Hermione being in danger. It was instinct. The same thing he had relied on before in his previous 'adventures' and gotten him out alive.

"Excuse me, have you –" called out Harry, in an explicably stupid act. Startled at the voice, the silhouette jumped and disappeared in the other direction.

Relying on his instincts, Harry followed after the person, running back into the rain at full pelt. It took only ten seconds for Harry to locate the person again, though he still had a lead on him.

The two of them ran through the rain, mud splattering against their robes. They passed several more buildings before Harry nearly slipped and, while trying to regain his balance, lost sight of the person. He continued forward, cursing his luck.

A much louder reverberating sound filled the sky, quickly followed by a crack of lightning, indicating the close proximity of the storm. In the brief second that the lightning offered light, Harry looked around and saw the same silhouette running down a side road. It was enough. Harry ran after it, still not entirely sure why.

Harry nearly slipped twice more on the mud ridden trail. Briefly Harry wondered why the person did not Apparate away if they wanted to escape him. Although Harry could do it now, there was no way he could trace the person with no resources, if tracking Apparition was even possible.

Harry's breath was in his ears. His robes weighed several times heavier than normal, completely water logged. Even with all the training duelling with the DA offered, a heavy robe, such as his own, reduced his speed significantly and was a burden. When he left Hogwarts, he was switching back to Muggle clothes at the first chance. Robes were just too much of a bother.

Fortunately a moment later the silhouette turned and entered a building. Harry, once he reached the building, looked up briefly to see where he was, pausing in shock to find out he was at the Hog's Head.

The bar was shady, everyone knew that. Harry had come here the previous year at Hermione's insistence to organize the DA. Unfortunately he had been overheard. Since then, he hadn't returned, or even thought of returning. The pub catered to a clientele that went from adventurous students, to borderline Dark wizards and every odd ball in between. Harry drew his wand and stepped inside.

Like the previous year, the pub was unbelievably dirty. The owner clearly wasn't a fan of cleaning, or used the dirt and grime to turn away the more privileged clientele in favor of the shadier sort. Whatever the reason, Professor's Flitwick's advice to bring your own mug was a necessity to avoid any peculiar diseases lurking in the forever dirty mugs owned by the proprietor. Harry felt he had been lucky the previous year, when nearly thirty students were here and not one felt sick. He might have thought he was overreacting about the disease part, though didn't want to risk it. Wizards still got sick and drinking from constantly dirty glasses only would facilitate such an event.

Harry scanned the current occupants of the pub. The barman, who looked remarkably like Dumbledore, was staring at Harry. Perhaps he was dumbfounded at the serious expression on Harry's face, his appearance, or maybe even the shock of seeing him in here again. Whatever the reason was, it didn't matter. What mattered was finding the person he only knew as a silhouette.

Besides the barman, there were several Hogwarts students in one corner. Harry was surprised that they had made it this far before the rain came pouring down. Besides them, there were five others. One was an elderly man, not nearly as elderly looking as the barman though, wearing a purple robe, staring curiously at him. Behind him, there was the back of a head of a woman with long, light brown braids. Sitting opposite her was a young man, chattering with his female companion excitedly. Harry instantly dismissed those two. The man was too tall and the woman didn't appear to be out of breath at all.

In the far left corner from the entrance was a middle-aged man in deep need of a shave. He was passed out; at least Harry thought so, on the table surrounded by several bottles of what Harry assumed was Firewhiskey. That left one person.

At the bar was the final customer. He, and it was a he, was facing away from Harry, as if undisturbed by his entrance. He had long, straggly ginger hair. It was hair that Harry knew.

Harry cast the same Drying and Warming Charms he had used in the Three Broomsticks again and slowly approached Mundungus Fletcher. With every step, Harry watched the thief for any signs of a movement. Harry reached the bar, watching Dung out of the corner of his eyes.

"A Butterbear, please," Harry said to the barman, taking a seat at the bar. The barman, still staring at Harry, woke out of his reverie. He reached under the bar and pulled a relatively clean glass, which wasn't saying much considering the standards of clean in this place, and poured the drink. Harry paid the two sickles and sat down and started drinking.

Harry became very aware of his surroundings as he drank. That awareness included the fact that now everyone was watching him and the man seated two spots to his left. Harry didn't say a word, nor did everyone else, even the couple who had been chattering away just a moment ago.

Mundungus hadn't made a move since Harry had entered, except to breathe. A closer examination of him saw that he was wearing a hooded robe of black with bulging pockets. His features were all hidden except for the outline of his face, which was resolutely looking at anywhere but Harry. That was fine with him; he already could tell it was him by the hair, and, much to Harry's chagrin, the smell.

It was as if this was the calm before the storm. The analogy, to Harry, was highly amusing considering the conditions outside.

Behind him, the door opened to pub and several more Hogwarts students entered. A rather loud clap of thunder caused several of the patrons to jump. Harry could feel the stares move off of him to the newcomers and back over the next few seconds. Creepily, he had gotten used to the feeling of people looking at him. It now had developed into a sixth sense of sorts. It was unusual for sure, but useful nonetheless.

The students' talk quickly died down, sensing the situation but not knowing why. They quickly ordered drinks and sat down, to join the rest of the customers, waiting, watching.

Still, Mundungus hadn't moved. If Harry couldn't hear his breathing, he would've sworn he was dead. Harry took another swig from his Butterbeer, savoring the taste before setting it down, empty. He shook his head at the barman who was preparing to get a refill. It was time to get this over with.

Harry kept his gaze focused on the back wall. He licked his lips, the silencing pressing against his ears.

"Why are you running from me Dung?" Harry practically whispered, though his voice carried throughout the entire pub. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mundungus tense up. There was no reply.

"You might want to answer," Harry continued with a little more edge on his voice.

Then the storm came.

Mundungus jumped out of his chair, the piece of furniture clattering to the ground behind him, and ran for the back exit at full pelt. In the time it took for that to happen, Harry already had drawn his wand out and cast a silent Trip Jinx. Mundungus, naturally, tripped, went flying through the air and landed spectacularly on the floor in front of the drunken, unconscious man. Harry jumped off his own chair, letting it clatter to the ground behind him, and calmly, but quickly, walked after Mundungus who had been stunned for a second from the fall, but now was scrambling madly to get to his feet.

Harry put his wand up his sleeve and grabbed onto Mundungus' robes. Using Dung's unstable footing, he threw him easily back into the bar. Several glasses were knocked over, landing with a smash on the floor behind the bar.

"Are you ready to talk yet, Dung?" asked Harry softly, menacingly. Dung stumbled trying to get to his feet. A second, louder, duller clattering sound caught Harry's attention. A silver goblet fell out from Dung's pocket and rolled along the floor towards him.

The entire bar watched, transfixed, as the goblet rolled towards Harry, drawing to a halt at his feet. Harry reached out to pick it up before recoiling in shock. The goblet had a crest on it, a crest that Harry was all too familiar with.

"What are you doing with Sirius' belongings?" Harry seethed, raising his gaze back to Dung. It was all he could do to keep from yelling at him. He wasn't sure if he could hold it in. There was no one around to stop him, abate the anger, nobody, just him and his hatred of the man before him.

Dung didn't answer, instead groaned as he tried to move too quickly and clutched at his head, trying to stand upright again. Harry took a step forward, grabbed his robes and threw him back to the floor, following through with a kick, a hard kick, to the side of the stomach with surprising strength, pushing the thief backwards a few meters. Several barstools were knocked to the side, one colliding with another and fell to the ground with a crash. There were several gasps throughout the pub.

"Really now, please restrain yourself…" the barman spoke.

"Stay out of it," Harry snarled. He reached down and went for Dung's still bulging pockets. Dung tried to get away, but Harry slammed a foot on his chest to keep him in place.

One by one, Harry withdrew item after item christened with the Black crest. With each one that passed through Harry's hands before being put on the ground behind him, Harry's anger only increased.

"You've got a fair bit of explaining to do, Dung," Harry said, filled with a rage at the thief. "And it had better be a good one. I'm not in a good mood, not at all." Dung remained mute, aside from the occasional whimper of pain from where Harry had kicked him. There was no remorse from Harry, not now, not yet, not in this state.

"Do you realize that this stuff belongs to me now?" Harry continued coldly. "Sirius left pretty much everything to me, so you've been stealing from me. How much more have you already stolen? How much have you sold off already?" With each sentence, Harry's voice grew louder and louder till he was practically shouting.

Incensed, Harry took his foot of the thief's chest and grabbed him again. He lifted Dung to his feet before slamming up against the bar. "Bloody hell, _answer me_," he growled.

"I-I-I didn't k-know that this was yours," Dung stuttered in a hoarse voice.

"So because Sirius is dead you thought you'd steal his stuff to make a profit?" Harry asked in a low, venom filled growl. Dung didn't answer. Harry pulled him back and then slammed him into the bar again. "Answer me," he ordered again, hatred and anger filling his eyes. Dung tried to look anywhere but at Harry, at those eyes.

"Y-Yeah, that's 'ow I get meself a livin'," Dung replied, fear evident in his voice. Harry had never been this angry, not even with Umbridge or Snape. This pathetic excuse for a human being was stealing from his dead Godfather, the last vestige of a parent he had.

Harry slammed him up against the bar a third time. A glass fell off the table from the vibrations and shattered on the ground with the others.

"Now, you're going to listen to what I say," Harry said false-calmly. "If I _ever_ catch you stealing from me or my Godfather again, I will hunt you down and kill you. Don't think I won't do it. I will."

Harry took a breath and looked on him with a mixture of pity and hatred. "I don't know how you live with yourself, stealing belongings from a dead man, one that was a friend to you." Harry spared him one last, disgusted, look. "Now leave the stuff and get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind."

Harry let him go, pushing him back into the bar once more. Dung steadied himself, stood still, shocked, for a moment before running for the exit. He tripped over one of the fallen chairs and crashed to the ground. A second later he was on his feet and out into the rain again. This act wasn't seen by Harry, whose attentions were focused on what he had said and done.

Harry faced the barman again, barely registering the look of utter disbelief on his face. "Sorry about your glasses," he muttered. He waved his wand twice, muttering the spells, and the chairs resumed their previous positions. A third wave and the glasses had repaired themselves.

With that done, Harry turned to retrieve Sirius' belongings off of the ground. There were two goblets, a necklace, a locket that Harry recognized from the cleaning two summers ago, a small box that Harry didn't dare open, and a small collection of knives and forks, all adorned with the Black family crest, except the locket. Harry was about to study it more closely when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned on the spot and looked up to see Su looking at him.

"Su?" Harry asked dumbly. Out of all the Hogwarts students he would expect to see at the Hogs Head, Su was definitely not one of them.

"We should go," Su replied. To put it lightly, Harry was shocked. Those three words were the first he had heard from her that weren't whispers between herself and Padma. He had wondered if she even talked aloud at all before Padma reassured him that she did when they were alone.

"Right," said Harry. He picked up the items with the Black family crest and pocketed them. To his surprise, he felt something inside his pocket where there shouldn't have been. Harry reached deep down in the pocket and wrapped his gloves around something. He withdrew it and found an ornate, opal necklace that he recognized from somewhere.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Su adjust her gaze slowly, as if under the influence of something. Harry looked at her oddly for a moment. When Su began to reach out, as if captivated by the necklace, Harry acted.

"Don't touch it." Harry ordered, moving it away from the shorter sixth year. Su looked at him, her eyes glazed over, acting as if she was miffed at his words and the retreat of the necklace. "We need to find a Professor. We don't know what this is, and I don't trust it."

Su didn't respond, unsurprisingly. What she did do was shake her head several times, her eyes returning to normal, sent Harry and the necklace a confused glance and walked to the door and opened it for him. Harry stared after her for a moment before returning the necklace to his pocket and walking back out into the rain, which had now slowed to a gentle shower, leaving a number of shocked patrons in the Hog's Head.

_What is that necklace doing in my pocket?_ Harry pondered. _It must have been…_ _Of course!_ It came to Harry. The necklace… he had seen it in Borgin and Burke's. It was the one that Hermione had asked about when they had been tailing Malfoy. That made it very likely that it was a very Dark object and dangerous object too. He must be safe from the affects with his gloves.

Through simple deduction, Harry figured that the person who had walked into him in the Three Broomsticks put the necklace in his pocket. The question was why? If he was the target, it would've been easier to press it to Harry's bare skin rather than hide it in a pocket on the off chance that he would touch it.

Then who was the target? Who else would go into Harry's pockets and touch the necklace unsuspectingly? If the target wasn't Harry then who was? Either way, the plan had been horribly thought out. It relied on complete luck.

Harry and Su ran briskly through the rain, passing under shelter after shelter back towards the Three Broomstick's. They were half way there when Harry remembered Hermione.

"Su, wait," Harry said, pulling to a stop, latching onto Su's wet robes. She stopped and looked at him questioningly. Harry had noticed over the past few weeks that she had a very expressive face. It wasn't often hard to know what she was after.

"I need to find Hermione. Any idea where she is?" asked Harry quickly. Su shook her head. "Great," Harry muttered.

"Are there any ways to track another wizard or witch that we can do?" asked Harry a moment later. Su, for several moments, went off into deep thought. When she returned to the present, she had a light in her eyes that was delightful to see.

With a quick movement of her hands, Su gestured into four different directions and then her wand. Harry stared at her, uncomprehending. Sign language, Su's version, was not something he was used to yet, regardless of how he could read her expressions. Su, patiently, repeated the motion a second and third time.

Then a spell came to mind.

"Wouldn't that be different to the original use of the spell?"

Su simply smiled and nodded. Harry shook his head and withdrew his wand. If she said it would work, he trusted her. She was smarter than him after all.

"Point Me, Hermione," Harry said aloud, his wand lay out in his palm. Originally it was used to help Harry in the maze as a simple compass spell, but if it could be altered this way… he could find Hermione.

There was only one problem. If, by chance it did work, the spell would only be able to locate her wand and not her person. Wandlore was a difficult and intricate art, one with many mysteries that still were unknown to the world at large. Relationships between wands were such a mystery. Somehow wands could find each other, yet sometimes they couldn't. It was how Sirius had found Harry that first night near Magnolia Crescent.

The wand spun a few times and pointed in the direction of the Three Broomsticks end of the village. Su smiled a second time at the success of the spell and pulled Harry along as they ran to the entrance of the inn. A quick search of the area found nobody outside in the rain, unsurprisingly.

In front of the building, Harry repeated the spell. His wand spun a few times, once less than before, and pointed out into the Forbidden Forest. What in the world was Hermione doing in there?

Harry stood still for a moment. Would going in there alone be advisable? He would be by himself. Was Hermione in danger? Why else would she be in the forest?

Instinct, and a dash of common sense, told him that Hermione was not in the Forbidden Forest for a leisurely stroll in the rain. Deciding he'd need, or at least preferred help, Harry cast the Protean Charm on the ring on his left index finger. The engraving on the inside of ring now read, 'Outside 3 B-stick. Now.'

A minute later, the door to the Three Broomsticks opened and Neville, Katie, Padma, Susan, Hannah and Luna appeared.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Padma asked, her voice louder than normal to be heard over the rain, seeing his solemn expression through the rain.

"Hermione's missing," Harry replied over the rain. Each of them was already soaked.

"Are you sure?" Susan asked wryly, crossing her arms, the rain already causing her long strawberry blonde hair to stick to her neck and robes. "You aren't always together you…" she stopped her kidding at the furious glare that Harry gave her.

"We got separated when the rain started," Harry said coldly. "According to my wand, she's in the Forbidden Forest somewhere. Excuse me for thinking she doesn't take walks in there, of her own volition, in the rain, often."

Susan took a step backwards, shocked and slightly ashamed with herself. Harry wouldn't ever say something like this if he didn't mean it. While he did joke, this was not something he would joke about. "I'm sorry."

Harry sighed, too impatient to hold a grudge. There was no time to be annoyed at her. "Are you coming or not?" Everyone announced their intentions to follow him.

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Get a move on," a voice from behind Harry said. It was Daphne, with Ernie running towards them from behind her.

"Let's go," Harry said, turning towards the forest. As one, the nine other DA members followed behind him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione Granger was in a fix.

When the rain had started she had been running after Harry, who had only been a few steps ahead of her. She had only taken a dozen steps when she had slipped and fallen into the growing mud. Before she had managed to rise, she felt someone grab onto her arms and then felt the harsh tug of something starting to drag her, arms first, into the Forbidden Forest. Spitting amounts of mud away from her mouth, Hermione tried to scream, but no avail. Whoever this was had already put a Silencing Charm on her.

Then, she felt herself go rigid and rise off the ground. For ten awkward minutes, she floated along, rain pelting her face. Finally, she began to hear voices and her captor slowed to a halt.

There were voices she recognized.

"Here she is," Gregory Goyle said in his troll like voice.

"And with a guest!" Vincent Crabbe guffawed. Hermione felt sickened. She'd been captured by two of the biggest dimwits at Hogwarts. Whoever this third person must be had to be someone more capable, surely.

"It should've been delivered by now," Goyle said vaguely.

"He'll be back soon then," Crabbe added.

"So what do we do with her?" Goyle asked.

"Dunno," Crabbe replied.

"Should we tie her up?"

"Tie her up?"

"So she doesn't escape, you moron."

"Don't call me a moron!"

"Just tie her to that tree already," Goyle ordered. Crabbe grumbled a bit before drawing his wand. Hermione would have loved to have escaped while the two idiot goons were arguing but whoever was holding onto her was surprisingly strong and no amount of wriggling helped her. The person hadn't made a noise, nor had he or she acted on his or her own volition, making Hermione believe that whoever it was was under the Imperius Curse.

Crabbe took a step forward. "Put her by that tree," he ordered the person under the cloak. Hermione grunted as she was dragged further, this time in front of one of the hundreds of trees surrounding her and deposited in front. As soon as her arms were free, she put her hands to her pockets before being hit with an _Incarcerous_ Spell.

Unbelievably, Hermione still hadn't been relieved of her wand. Hermione had purposefully put her arms to her pockets so she could reach her wand while still tied to the large tree. She was immobile but armed, albeit limited in her range and movement. Now all she could do was wait for the right moment.

Crabbe, Goyle and the unknown figure walked almost out of sight, between several trees, before sitting down to watch her. Hermione couldn't believe they left her so unguarded. It was too easy.

In fact, it was. Not seconds after she had touched her wand, she heard footsteps coming from behind her. Who was it this time?

"Well, well, what do we have here?" a voice she did not recognize said amusedly. Hermione tried to look to find the voice but couldn't see anything. _Invisible?_

_Homenum Revelio,_ Hermione said silently, her hand on her wand. There was a shimmer on Hermione's left. She continued to look around as if looking for the voice, slowly making her way in the direction of the shimmer. Hermione had an advantage; she wasn't going to waste it.

The hidden figure, underneath a Disillusionment Charm, was a male, at least mid-thirties, who was smirking down on her. He was roughly ten meters away, watching her looking around frantically for the source of the voice. He had long dark hair and a face that could only be described as heavy and brutal.

"Where are you?" Hermione spoke to the supposedly empty woods in a fake panicky voice. Suddenly she let out a gasp. Her right ring finger had warmed up. Had Harry realized she was missing and was gathering everyone? Hermione had created the rings to only write messages from Harry's, and that meant he had something important to say if he was using the rings at Hogsmeade.

For a minute, there were no sounds except the rain crashing against the leaves and ground. Hermione was absolutely soaked and mud ridden. She started shivering. She dared not cast a Warming or Drying Charm for fear of being found out.

The man hidden underneath the Disillusionment Charm stood watching her. He didn't make any movements, not giving Hermione anything to find out his position. Or so he thought.

The longer he stayed still, not doing anything, the more time Harry would have to find her. If he had summoned the members of the DA, then he would have plenty of backup against this man, Crabbe, Goyle and the cloaked person. The DA was about to get its first taste of a real fight. Hopefully their training would be good enough in real life. Most of them were about to get their first ever unregulated duel.

There was just one problem.

_Why in the world did they capture me?_

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was having similar thoughts.

The DA was created to learn Defense. Harry altered it to create his own army. Now it was about to get its first taste of combat. _How would they perform? Was their training going to be of any use or was it about to prove useless?_

Thanks to Su's idea, Harry's manipulation of the Four Point Spell made finding Hermione far easier than he would have dared hope. It had only taken a short amount of time from when the ten DA members met up to when they were deep into the forest, on the right trail.

Before leaving, the ten of them had cast Silencing Charms on their feet. The rain had created hundreds of puddles throughout the forest. Each one would be a giveaway of their position. That was something that they could not afford. They were meant to have the advantage with their unexpected numbers; being found out so easily would be wasting their chance.

Still, there was the lingering hope that Hermione was perfectly fine and just taking a stroll in the forest without telling him…

_Yeah, right._

That left her been taking by force. That meant Death Eaters.

The Forbidden Forest was not uncharted territory for Harry, at least the section inside the school grounds. Surrounding the town of Hogsmeade were hundreds upon hundreds of acres of forest. Not all of it was inhabited by creatures, most choosing to reside within the protections offered by Hogwarts, but that didn't mean they were deserted of Magical life.

Fortunately, the section the ten Hogwarts students were in appeared to be deserted of Magical life. This would be a bad time to crash paths with the centaurs or Grawp.

"Harry," Hannah's voice brought him back to the matter at hand. "If Hermione is captured, why is she still nearby? If Death Eaters captured her, wouldn't they take her to wherever V-Vol-Voldemort is?" Hannah, like Padma and Neville, was overcoming her fear of the Dark Lord's name.

It was a good question. Harry had asked himself the same question for the past ten minutes. The only answer he could think of wasn't promising.

"They want me," Harry replied simply. "Everyone knows I'd rescue Hermione if it was within my power, and try even if it wasn't. Since they're still nearby, they must be waiting for me to find her and trap me." Harry paused, stopping in his tracks. One by one the nine behind him stopped.

"Harry?" Katie asked, worried.

"Is Hogsmeade warded against Apparition now, like Diagon Alley?" Harry inquired. Why hadn't Mundungus Apparated away when he'd been spotted? Whoever had Hermione wouldn't have Apparated away immediately because then there wouldn't have been any way for Harry to track her down. As far as he knew, Apparition was impossible to track.

However, this far into the forest, away from both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade would undoubtedly be out of range of the wards.

"As of last week, yes," Susan answered. Everyone turned to her, clearly showing their surprise. Nobody else had known. "My Aunt…" she looked down at her feet. Hannah put a reassuring hand on her shoulder from behind. "Had a lot of friends in the Ministry. They came around sometimes and we talked. One of them told me in a letter."

Harry cursed.

"Isn't that a good thing?" asked Neville confusedly.

"I can Apparate," Harry told them. There were surprised looks all round, including Daphne. Not even she had seen _that_ one coming. "I took an extra day away from Hogwarts to get my license while I was away three weeks ago. Though since we're this far out, Apparition is probably possible here."

"Wait a minute, Harry." Padma's voice stopped him. "You can't get an Apparition license unless you're of age…"

"You've answered your own question," Harry said. "Come on, walk and talk." Harry cast the Point Me Spell again. Hermione, according to the Spell, was still deeper in the forest, however this time the wand only spun once. They were getting closer.

"Huh?" Ernie said stupidly. "How are you of age?"

"Sirius Black made you his heir didn't he, Harry?" Susan said solemnly.

"Yeah," Harry said quietly. He climbed over a fallen tree, turned and helped over everyone else. "How'd you guess?" he asked while helping her over.

"Auntie wanted to do the same for me," answered Susan, regaining her balance after slipping in a patch of mud. "She … she didn't get the time to change her will." Harry gently squeezed her shoulder as a reassuring gesture before turning his attention to helping Hannah over the log.

None of them said anything else for awhile after that.

"Point Me Hermione." Harry uttered the spell one last time. The wand in his hand didn't even spin once. It continued to point straight ahead.

Harry knelt down and motioned for the rest to do the same. "We have no idea the numbers or who we're up against. We could be up against one, two, three, or twenty." All nine of them nodded solemnly. "Everyone, Disillusionment Charms now."

The feeling of an egg cracking on his head and something cold running down his back was something that Harry still wasn't used to. He watched as all nine of them shivered involuntarily before returning their attentions to him.

"I'm not going to ask you to kill for me," Harry deadpanned. "If possible, I don't want to have to kill anyone in this war, but that is unrealistic and I'm sure each of you understands that. If the moment comes when you have to choose between killing a person and saving yourself or any of our lives, _do not hesitate_." The nine of them nodded solemnly after various lengths of contemplation.

"Susan, Hannah, Daphne, Su, take the right side." Harry ordered. "Move quickly but quietly. Our presence is probably already known but if we have the surprise, at the very least in numbers, we're going to make use of it. Daphne," Harry turned to the blonde Slytherin.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to order her around. He did. "Figure out your best plan of attack from your side. Use anything and anyone." Daphne nodded. The four of them nodded and moved off to the side, waiting for the word to move out.

"Padma," Harry said. Padma nodded, her attention fully focused on him. "Take Luna, Ernie, Katie and Neville with you. Use that fantastic mind of yours to think up your best plan of attack. If you can, scout the area to determine how many enemies there are."

Luna, Ernie, Katie and Neville moved off to the side. Padma didn't budge.

"What about you?" Padma asked accusingly, her gaze never leaving Harry's eyes.

_She's too smart._ Harry thought ruefully.

"I'm giving them just what they want," Harry explained with a slight grimace. "I'm going to walk straight up to them head on. What else would the hot-headed me have done?"

-x-x-x-x-x-

The element of surprise was one of the most basic strategies in any battle. Regardless of how powerful or destructive a weapon becomes, taking the enemy by surprise would result in an increased chance of victory. That's not to say that one person with the element of surprise could win against one hundred, that's just not going to happen. When the numbers were ten on an undetermined amount, the element of surprise would be vital.

Unfortunately, the man that was holding Hermione seemed to already know Harry was coming. How she knew this was simple. He had said so.

"Ah, here he comes," The man had said to himself. "Impressive. I thought he would've taken longer than this."

Hermione's head shot up in his direction. The man caught Hermione's eye, not realizing that she could see him. The truly magnificent thing about the spell she had discovered to reveal hidden beings was that the person hidden wouldn't notice. Bellatrix had seen her two partners revealed on the Hogwarts express and known her own protection would also be gone. Dumbledore had used the spell repeatedly to discover Harry under his Cloak over the years. The Cloak was protected by more powerful magic than a simple Disillusionment Charm and so only the caster could, for a few seconds, see where the hidden figures where. The only way Hermione knew that Dumbledore knew this was because of the occasions when the Headmaster would look directly at them under the Cloak. This had fuelled her research to find the spell. Thankfully the summer before sixth year bore fruition.

_Harry came, I knew he would._

"Crabbe, Goyle," The man called to the two oafs who were still seated off in the distance. "Get ready; he's walked straight through the sensor. Nobody else passed through it. He's alone." The man turned back to face Hermione. "Your hero is not very intelligent is he? Walking straight into a trap like this… Bellatrix was right; he's a hot-headed runt. I knew I wouldn't need any backup."

Hermione felt a brief pang of worry. Harry was alone? There was no Ron anymore. Was he really alone? What about the DA? Or were they somewhere else?

At the very least, Hermione had her hand on her wand. She was ready to release herself at the right moment. The man had not come any closer to her, or inquired about the wand. Hermione correctly assumed that the man thought Crabbe and Goyle would've had it.

Speaking of them, Hermione watched the two goons stumble through the undergrowth towards her. The figure underneath the cloak followed as well. The man removed his Disillusionment Charm.

"Order whoever that is to attack Potter once the first spell has been fired, not a moment before," the man ordered. "Now get to your positions. He'll be here in a minute."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Padma quickly ran low to ground through the forest, brushing past dozens of branches that cut at her robes which she ignored, the rest of her team mere steps behind her. She had spotted Hermione tied up to a tree. It looked as if she was alone with just one captor…that was before she saw two very familiar faces.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were two of the stupidest students in the school yet she never had believed they would have gotten this stupid. Honestly.

Accompanying them was a medium height person under a cloak, their face not visible from their position. Padma couldn't determine who that was, not even their gender.

"The person under the cloak," Padma whispered to her companions. "Stun only. We don't know if that's a person under _Imperius_ or not."

Katie kneeled down behind Padma, grimacing as her hands grew steadily muddier the more places she touched. "Right," she replied, part of her distaste making its way into her tone of voice.

Padma glared at Katie. "If you don't want to get dirty, you shouldn't have joined us." Padma chided the older girl.

Once upon a time, Katie would've retaliated with her own comeback; however the seriously of their situation did not pass over her head. Keeping as quiet as possible was a must.

Neville patted his hand on Katie's shoulder consolingly, unintentionally leaving a muddy hand print on the material.

Padma inwardly sighed, returning her focus to the matter at hand.

There was one other person in sight. He was a tallish man, whose back was to Padma and her group. He was standing roughly fifteen meters from Hermione. That was a problem. A misaimed spell from here could hit Hermione. Alerting the man of their presence would cause him to fire off at Hermione.

A distraction was needed.

Fortunately, that was exactly what Harry's job was.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Daphne was in similar mind to Padma, though not knowing it.

The four of them all saw Hermione tied to a tree with Crabbe, Goyle, a person in a cloak and a middle aged man guarding over her. Crabbe, Goyle and the person in a cloak turned and walked in different directions. The three of them hid behind trees.

Susan voiced her deduction that that was supposed to be their hiding spot crossed with cover.

Two of the stupidest students in the school replicated their intellect by not Disillusioning themselves.

Not that it would've mattered.

"See that person in the cloak?" Daphne remarked, gesturing the general direction of said person. "That person is probably under _Imperius_. Try to Stun that one, the rest are fair game."

Susan and Hannah glared at her.

"I didn't mean it that way!" Daphne backtracked angrily. She sighed to herself. Although she was getting along with them all for the most part, she wasn't stupid enough to delude herself about their skepticism of her. That would take a long time to change, if it ever did. For too many years the other three houses had hated Slytherin, only because the ambition and cunning of several Slytherins had resulted in the uprising of Dark Lord's, one after the other.

Even though she had joined Potter's side in the war, it didn't give her trust. At least Gryffindors, Huffelpuffs and Ravenclaws weren't _that_ stupid.

"Potter's probably going to be the diversion," Daphne whispered to the other three. "After we take these three down, quickly search the area for anyone else then back up Potter and Granger. Be ready to make your move when the moment comes."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry waited for a minute, making sure that everyone could have as much time as possible to prepare. He trusted them to be quick and quiet. Padma and Daphne were both very intelligent women, which was why he had left them in charge.

Very few people knew how much he had changed since the Department of Mysteries, regardless of what Lavender said the school was learning about him. The school, according to his fellow Gryffindor, knew that he wasn't the 'Boy-Who-Lived', but in fact his own person. That didn't translate into what his personality was like now or how strong he had, and was, becoming. After his outburst in Snape's class recently, Harry believed that the school probably thought he was still much the same as the previous year. At any rate, the Death Eaters would be unprepared for a much stronger, more intelligent Harry Potter. That was what he wanted to continue to prove by walking straight on into a trap.

Harry removed the Silencing Charm from his feet and closed the distance between himself and Hermione's supposed location. His wand pointed directly ahead of him. She was close.

Then he saw them. There was a man, medium height, staring directly in his direction, as if knowing he was there. That didn't matter. Since he wasn't looking around him, he wouldn't notice the nine students surrounding him. Were all Death Eaters this stupid or overconfident? Then again, he was supposed to be just one sixteen year old kid.

"What have you done with Hermione?" Harry yelled out. The rain had all but stopped. His voice carried the distance to the man easily.

"The Mudblood's safe," The man called back, smirking. Harry had to fight to not smirk back. He was completely underestimating his opponent.

"What do you want?" Harry demanded.

"The Dark Lord has requested a meeting, one that would result in the end of these games," the man replied calmly, authoritatively. "Come with me quietly and I'll let the Mudblood go."

"Harry!" Hermione called out. Harry quickly shifted his focus to her voice and then back to the man. He saw the ropes surrounding one of the trees twenty meters in front of him. Now he knew where she was. There was just one more thing he had to know.

"How did Bellatrix and the other idiots get on the Express?" Harry asked, returning his focus to the unknown Death Eater. This was one of the questions he had for Tonks, but she was still out of the country…or so he had been told.

The man smirked. "Bellatrix, the whore, went early in the morning, before your beloved Ministry protection arrived. It really is embarrassing how far the Ministry has declined due to the corruption of Mudbloods." The man shrugged. "It was easy as long as you knew when to arrive."

Harry failed to restrain a snort. "You blame non-purebloods for your own mistakes. In case you haven't noticed, all the positions of _real_ influence are held by purebloods. That means that anything in every department has to pass through their hands. Unless I'm mistaken, that makes it your own group that made the mistakes."

Surprisingly, the man did not grow angry or retaliate verbally. He simply continued to smirk at Harry. "It is useless for us to be arguing, Mr. Potter. Are you going to come quietly and save your friend or are you going to make me force you and get your friend killed?" The man drew his wand and pointed it at spot out of Harry's eyesight, in front of the tree that held the ropes.

Harry was surprised that Hermione didn't say anything at this. There wasn't even a whimper of fear, a frightened plead for her life. Nothing.

Then understanding came to him. She would've felt the ring radiate heat when he created the new message. She knew he wasn't alone. Fortunately, the man didn't seem to know or care.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, stalling for just a little more time. The man looked surprised for a moment, the query an unexpected one in his eyes. "You weren't there at the welcome back party a year and a half ago." Harry continued. "That means you're new."

"If you must know, my name is Yaxley, a pureblood," Yaxley stated proudly. "Are we done with Q&A? Make your choice." He tightened his grip on his wand.

"Yeah, I've made a choice." Harry said calmly. He reached into his pocket and pulled his wand, leveling it between the Death Eaters' eyes. "You're going to have to beat all us."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement on both his left and right sides as the DA made their move. Since the Disillusionment Charm did not hide one perfectly; he could see the occasional shimmer. He couldn't make out any distinct figures however.

"_Us_?" Yaxley repeated, highly amused by this announcement. "You're alone, Potter." He shook his head. "Too bad, now the Mudblood dies." He raised his wand. "_Avada Ke…_" Yaxley stopped mid incantation. There was something wrong. His wand was missing.

"Are you so sure, Yaxley?" Harry taunted, his confidence radiating off him despite his worry over Hermione. They could do this. They could _really_ do this. "Am I really alone?"

"Crabbe! Goyle!" Yaxley shouted. "There are more enemies!"

Harry raised his wand and cast a silent Reductor Curse at Yaxley, who just managed to get out of the way in time, the sounds of water splashing following him as he moved through numerous puddles. Harry quickly moved to release Hermione, but found she was already getting to her feet, wand in hand.

"You idiots!" Yaxley screamed, noticing the wand in Hermione's hand. "You didn't get her wand?"

Yaxley reached under his robes and pulled out a second wand, waving it once just in time to shield against Hermione, who cast a Cutting Curse at him. The shield dissipated a second later and the man sent back a different spell that Hermione dodged with ease. Harry, taking several steps forward, cast a Stunner followed by a second Reductor Curse in the Death Eater's direction.

Already Harry could tell that catching this person with a Stunner probably wouldn't work. They were too easy to shield and this man was capable, not at all like he had experienced against the Black Sisters in their anger-fueled state of mind. He had to try something different to render him unable to fight.

Yaxley parried both spells with practiced ease before rounding on him with a barrage of Dark spells Harry wasn't familiar with. Harry Banished a bunch of debris into the incoming spells path to intercept the spells. With a small explosion, the spells collided with the Banished objects and exploded in mid-air, the remains sprinkling to the ground almost soundlessly in the dying vestiges of the storm.

Harry moved off his spot, running to his left, his damp hair flailing wildly around his eyes, more than once interfering with his eye sight. Yaxley passed in and out of sight as he passed by numerous trees, each dropping various amounts of water onto him as he battled his way through the underbrush. Thankfully the man's attention had turned back to Hermione, who was now casting a rather large variety of spells that the Death Eater was able to dodge or shield himself against with trained precision. Despite starting the entire battle on the back foot, he had already proven he was not a pushover. At best, Hermione was stalling him.

Harry, seeing the man was entirely focused on dealing with Hermione, not anticipating the situation where his captive had escaped, on the run, cast a Bludgeoning Hex and a Blasting Hex at his opponent. The spells rocketed through the air towards the man's back unhindered by the dense foliage. Hermione dodged a curse that connected with a tree and imploded, the sound reverberating through the woods, saw the spells coming and erected a shield in case the spells missed.

For many wizards, that might have been enough to end the fight.

Unfortunately, Yaxley was_ not_ a pushover.

The man turned on his left foot, the wet leaf litter adding to the ease of his turn, cast a Shield Charm which absorbed both spells, and sent a Flame-Cutter Curse in Harry's direction. The spell's wide arc cut through several trees like they were butter.

However, the spell had been hurriedly cast and ended up a good ten meters to the right of Harry, who had kept on moving. A half dozen trees began to collapse, colliding and knocking several more over, creating a series of enormous crashing sounds, drawing Harry, Hermione and Yaxley away from the duel to watch in amazement, or, in Harry's case avoid, the falling trees. Dozens of birds screeched and took off at the loud noises in their habitat, blocking out small patches of light from the darkened skies. To finish off the destructive display of spellwork, many of the trees were set alight with several small, magical fires.

Once the last of the trees had collapsed, each of the three refocused their attention on the duel. Harry looked around quickly for where Yaxley and Hermione were through the rain soaked vegetation and found them resuming their duel. Yaxley, far more experienced than Hermione was, seemed to have finally gained the upper hand as Hermione was almost backed up against a tree, maintaining a shield desperately, a number of spells hammering relentlessly into it.

Taking a step forward, wand at the ready to aid Hermione, Harry's foot got caught on an exposed root and nearly tripped over. He reached out and steadied himself on a fallen tree. A quick, not altogether brilliant plan, but a plan nonetheless, came to mind.

"Get out of the way, now, Hermione!" Harry called out. He cast a variety of standard spells to distract the Death Eater and allow Hermione the time to recover. The spells were shielded or dodged with simplistic ease that was becoming the norm from this man, but the objective was complete. Hermione managed to scramble aside, her shield seconds from breaking, and raised her wand at Yaxley.

"_Plecto!_" Hermione yelled out, waving her wand wildly like a whip, and a sharp whipcrack sound emanated in the clearing. Yaxley, recognizing the spell, tried to move aside quickly, but was not quick enough to avoid it entirely. Instead of his wand arm, like Hermione had been aiming at, the spell connected with his left mid-section with the sound of whip hitting flesh. Yaxley let out a small yelp of pain and skidded a few meters to the side, the power of the spell surprising him, and barely missing a second Blasting Hex from Harry because of it.

Clenching his teeth together tightly, Yaxley stood tall once again. The spell must've hurt immensely, yet Yaxley was not one to take a hit and then be done for the count.

Hermione, as soon as the spell had connected, turned tail and ran, sliding once on the damp forest floor, from the small clearing she and Yaxley had been dueling in to the tree line and disappeared behind the first, reappearing for a moment to cast another simple Reductor Curse. Harry from his spot opposite of her was well aware of how much she must've put into her shield against Yaxley for it to protect her for so long. She was tired, physically and magically. It was a miracle that Yaxley had not thought to use the few spells in existence that could break a shield. That had been the last thing Flitwick had warned him about when discussing shield spells.

But that was fine. It was time for Harry to make his next move.

"_Wingardium Leviosa,_" whispered Harry, too much in a hurry to cast the spell silently. That required a little more concentration than he was willing to spare presently. Silent spellcasting wasn't quite second nature yet, not in pressure moments.

"_Depulso_," whispered Harry, directing his wand in the direction of Yaxley. His plan was very simple and it was almost exactly the same as he had used in his first duel against Flitwick and then Hermione shortly afterwards. The only difference was that the objects he was effectively chuckling at the enemy were far larger and would hurt considerably more than simple twigs with a little extra weight.

Those times he was only attempting to prove a point, not to injure a person. This time, he _was_ out to injure a person.

The force behind the Banishment Charm was considerable, and although several branches did try to slow down the spell, they were snapped, rather loudly, with incredible ease.

Yaxley turned to identify the source of the sound, his attentions formerly on finishing off Hermione by first destroying whatever protection a single tree offered her.

The Death Eater didn't pay her any heed once he saw what was headed straight for him. An incoming chunk of tree that he himself had knocked down with his careless curse earlier was a tad more important than a tired mudblood hiding behind a tree.

Harry had cast the Cutting Curse several times on several of the many fallen trees to create rather large and effective projectiles. It was a simple tactic and was the first thing that came to mind when Yaxley had so kindly played lumberjack for him.

Yaxley cast a Reductor Curse at the projectile, blowing the threat to smithereens, the pieces raining down to the forest floor. Splashes could be heard as larger pieces of debris landed in the many puddles.

A second and third quickly followed, both barely being able to be destroyed before colliding with their target.

There was movement behind Harry, who quickly turned, saw a shimmery outline and returned his focus to Yaxley immediately, flicking his wrist to the man's direction to cover his diverted attention. A fifth and sixth piece followed soon after, also finding themselves destroyed before hitting their target.

"Is that all you got, Potter?" Yaxley taunted, calling out over the thirty odd meters separating them. "After all the hype, I'm severely disappointed in you."

Harry ignored the taunt, continuing with his plan, Banishing three more pieces directly at Yaxley. Amidst the explosion noise, Harry called out instructions to the person who'd come up behind him.

Running out of pieces of fallen trees, Harry Banished the rest of his supply except for one and went on the move again, the sole remainder left in an easily accessible position for when he needed it.

Dispatching the last of the irritating projectiles, Yaxley followed the Potter boy's movements closely, taking his time to aim for this attempt. With a quick flick, the Death Eater cast a silent Nerve Cutting Curse followed by several more in a similar vain, including the standard Cutting Curse, in front of the boy's movements. He could not risk any permanent damage, for the Dark Lord would have his head if he killed the boy.

The first of the spells missed, Yaxley misinterpreting Harry's speed, while the following few either bounced harmlessly off, or cut down, more trees surrounding the runt.

Surprisingly, the boy was quick and managed to dodge each tree without much of a scare.

Harry jumped over a fallen branch, turned to face Yaxley and slid to a stop, nearly losing his balance again. A tree was falling right in front of him and with everything he could muster, and with a strong, furious swipe of his wand, Harry Banished the entire tree in the direction of the Death Eater.

The entire tree, minus a meter, from where the Cutting Curse had hit, shot off in the direction of Yaxley, who cast yet another Reductor Curse. The spell collided with the tree in the middle, blew it in half, showering the older man with dozens of chunks of wood, several cuts appearing on his face and bruising his skin.

It was at this time that several shouts were heard from around the clearing Yaxley was in.

Shaking free from the debris, Yaxley searched quickly for the source of the shouts, only to find a dozen spells flying at him from one half of the clearing. With fluid, well practiced movements, hampered by his heavily bruised mid-section, Yaxley ducked and shielded all that he could, being struck by a stray Bludgeoning Curse that dislocated his left shoulder towards the end of the barrage. A shout of pain was cut off by the need to vocalize and create a shield to defend against another incoming set of spells.

In his desperation to defend against the numerous spells, regardless of how weak or common they were, Yaxley never noticed Harry disappear from his previous position.

Harry had ordered the person under the Disillusionment Charm to get the others into an attacking position on one side of the forest and to cast spells as a distraction at an advantageous moment, thereby giving him the chance to end this. A combined total of eight wizards and witches was enough to put even the most experienced duelist on his back foot.

While Yaxley was busy fending off a large number of spells, Harry quickly summoned the remaining piece of fallen tree that he had cut before and positioned himself side on to the Death Eater. He would've liked to have been behind him, the man presenting a larger target there, but there was the occasional inaccurate spell that could have hit him.

"I must say, Yaxley," Harry said smartly, confidently, drawing the attentions of the man after the third barrage of spells. "You are single handedly the strongest Death Eater I have fought to date. Call it comforting words for when you're rotting in Azkaban."

Before he could retort, Harry waved his wand and sent the final piece speeding directly towards the twice injured man, followed by a simple Stunning Spell. There was no need for more, not this time. Had he been at full strength, Yaxley would've been able to blast the wood to pieces again and shield the simple spell. However, he had a dislocated shoulder and a whiplash on his side that impeded his movements enough. The man fruitlessly tried to turn in time to defend against the newest, and final, onslaught.

The Death Eater was struck head on in the chest with the tree trunk. A large, sharp yell of a pain escaped the man's lips before his voice was caught in his throat, winded, if not worse. A sickening crack was heard throughout the forest as at least one bone in the man's chest and stomach region broke underneath the massive power Harry put behind the Banishing Charm.

The Death Eater finally slumped to the ground, unconsciousness, but still very much alive. For a moment, Harry stood still, panting, wand still aimed at Yaxley's motionless body. There was no movement, even after a solid minute of being on guard. He took a step forward and, remembering, cast a simple _Stupefy_ to ensure the man _was,_ and would _stay,_ unconscious. A ruffling noise to his right distracted him from anything more.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled. She ran out from a gap in the trees and tackled him in a hug, much like the one he received when he returned three weeks before. He managed to stay standing this time, though he was breathing rather heavily. "Thank you," she whispered into his chest, clutching at his thoroughly soaked through robes.

"No need," Harry replied honestly, trying to breathe in and out deeply and catch his breath.

There really wasn't. Hermione was his best friend. He'd meant what he had said to everyone not fifteen minutes ago. He would have gone after her whether he could save her or not, ill feelings or not.

"Thank you," she whispered again, tightened her grip on him slightly before letting him go and giving him a beautiful smile that contrasted with the greatly dirtied robes she wore. He smiled back for a moment, before beginning to feel uncomfortable. Then he remembered the rest of their party.

"Are we all done?" Harry called out loudly, his voice magnified by the environment. Hermione, remembering them too, quickly began a furious examination of the woods around them for any signs of life. There was a moment of silence before he heard a rustling coming from a ways in front of him. Seconds later, the DA members appeared levitating the unconscious and, in one case, bloody forms of Crabbe, Goyle, and a third person in a cloak.

Su, Luna, Ernie and Neville had streams of water from their wands extinguishing the small fires created by Yaxley's spell on their way to Harry and Hermione.

"We searched the area," Padma explained the reason for the delay, dumping the form of Crabbe unceremoniously on the ground next to Yaxley. "There's nobody else." She then let out a marvelous smile at Harry. "I'd say this is a successful rescue mission?"

Harry smiled back. "Definitely,"

Daphne dumped the body of Goyle on top of Crabbe, not realizing, or not caring, that the Stunned forms of the two were now effectively snogging each other. "We saw Hermione, this guy," she pointed to Yaxley. "Crabbe, Goyle and this other one," she pointed to the one in a cloak that Susan was levitating towards him. "And surrounded them. Goyle was closer to us, so we went for him."

"Crabbe was closer to our group, so we went after him," Padma added, while casting several spells on herself, the dirt, grime and rain soaked robes repairing themselves and warming her up.

"You should've seen Susan and Hannah here," Daphne laughed, having already done the same. "These two really know how to work together. This oaf," she nudged Goyle with her foot. "Got hit in the stomach with Hannah's Bludgeoning Curse, bent over in pain and got Susan's Bludgeoning Curse in the face."

"That explains the blood," Harry remarked offhandedly. Frankly, he didn't care if they were bleeding or not as long as his friends were safe.

Daphne nodded. "Su, here," she smiled at the short, silent Ravenclaw. "Then got him with an Obscuro Charm so he wouldn't see who we are, and then I Stunned him." Daphne then smirked at Harry. "He never even got a shot off. It was pathetically easy, really."

"Then we heard the sound of trees collapsing and I came over to see if you needed any help," Daphne went on. "I must say, that was a remarkably good show you put on, Potter."

Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Praise was never something he had gotten used to, let alone from the confrontational one of the group. "Thanks. I doubt it was the most effective plan, as I'm not really much of a planner in a duel, but it was all that came to mind."

"It worked," Neville said cheerfully. "Who cares if it wasn't the most effective plan?"

"He's right," Susan said with a smile on her face. "As far as I can see, we're all unharmed and we have three Death Eaters and a…" All eyes turned to the cloaked person.

Padma stepped forward. "Neville, Luna and Katie teamed up against Crabbe while Luna and I Stunned and bound up this other one. We haven't checked to see who it is."

"Then let's find out," Harry said. Susan gently laid the body on the ground. The eleven of them surrounded the body. Harry knelt down and put his hand on the hood of the robe. He took a breath and pushed it aside.

"Madam Rosmerta?" Susan asked, shocked.

In fact it was the bartender of the Three Broomsticks. Her pretty face was lined with dirt and mud from the battle and the rain.

"Someone put her under the _Imperius_," Harry muttered more to himself than anyone. He looked at Crabbe and Goyle, instantly dismissed them as being able enough to use the spell and looked at Yaxley. Had he been the one?

"Rennervate," Harry whispered, a brief glow stemming from his wand. He then quickly muttered _Diffindo_ and the ropes binding her were cut. Rosmerta opened her eyes, blinked several times and looked around in surprise.

"Harry Potter?" she asked confused. "What are you doing? What are we doing here?" Su helped her sit up. Rosmerta took in her surroundings, robes and the Stunned Death Eaters. "What happened?"

"You were put under the _Imperius_," Harry said quietly, in a hopefully reassuring voice. "You're okay now. Can you remember anything? Who put you under the Curse?"

Rosmerta thought for a moment, her eyes watering. "I remember preparing for the Hogwarts students to come to the inn…is it still Saturday?" Harry nodded and Rosmerta sighed in relief, wiping the unshed tears away, not realizing she had dirtied her face further. "Then the door opened a bunch of students came in. I went into the back room to bring out some more Butterbeer…and that's all I remember."

"Can you remember what the voice sounded like?" Harry prodded gently.

Rosmerta shook her head. "It was a male's voice…I'm sorry, that's all I can remember." Her eyes started to tear up again.

"That's alright, Madam Rosmerta." Harry put an equally hopefully reassuring hand on her shoulder and stood up. "Let's get back to Hogsmeade." Harry faced their three prisoners and cast a Stunner on each of them. Hermione added an _Incarcerous_ to all three. Susan, Hannah and Ernie followed through by casting Levitating Charms on them.

The eleven Hogwarts students, a disoriented Madam Rosmerta, and three levitated Death Eaters marched, or floated, through the Forbidden Forest back to the town of Hogsmeade.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N:** I've significantly upgraded Yaxley's power from canon. There needs to be some capable Death Eaters. I chose him here. His plan was a knock-off the big one from OotP and he did not expect Harry to have such a large support, hence the ease in which he was overcome.


	12. Frustration

_**Chapter 12: **__**Frustration**_

"Everyone but Neville and Hermione go on ahead." Harry told the DA members.

The eleven DA members, three prisoners and Madam Rosmerta were at the edge of the Hogsmeade side of the Forbidden Forest. The rain had finally ceased completely, leaving the entire forest covered with a layer of moisture, soaking through each of the students' clothes and, irritatingly, their shoes. A few quick flicks of each of their wands dried and warmed them all.

"How come?" Katie asked.

"I imagine Harry wants to keep the knowledge of his associate's secret as long as possible," said Padma, facing Katie. She turned to Harry and smiled, "Correct?"

"Right," Harry answered, guiding the still disoriented Rosmerta to a nearby tree for her to try and rest a moment. "It won't be hard to twist the story to make it like there was just Neville, Hermione and me." Harry faced them and smiled. "Thanks for coming."

After a moment's hesitation, wherein the group exchanged looks with one and other, they responded.

"No worries, Harry," Neville said brightly.

"We're with you, Harry," Padma replied determinedly.

"Whenever you need us, call, alright?" Hannah said with a smile.

"Same goes for me," Susan added. The two Hufflepuff females made to leave, Susan hesitating a moment. "I'm sorry about before," she said, her eyes downcast.

"Forget it happened." Harry said offhandedly, waving it off. "Everything worked out fine."

"I won't make the same mistakes again, okay?" she replied meeting his eyes. "Loyalty and all, it's important to 'Puffs." Harry just smiled and nodded appreciatively, though quietly curious as to the hesitation. A moment later the two female Hufflepuffs waved goodbye. As they walked in the opposite direction, the two drew their wands, Disillusioned themselves and, under the protection of the spell, made for the opposite end of town.

Padma, Luna and Su were the next to go, heading in a different direction than the Hufflepuffs. Katie looked at her hands and robes with a disgusted look, waved her wand briefly to clean herself up and left with Ernie several steps behind her.

Surprisingly, Ernie kept his ego in check for the duration of their trip back. Perhaps his attitude had finally changed after Daphne had a bit of a go at him? Perhaps that was wishful thinking.

Harry sighed and sat down on a log, ignoring the dampness.

"Madam Rosmerta?" he asked the still frightened landlady.

Rosmerta was trembling, with a look of intense concentration and fear etched on her features. Harry gathered she was still getting accustomed to the idea of having a couple of hours of missing memories forevermore and being put under the _Imperius_.

Harry continued, "In your story, can you say that it was just us three that were in the fight?" Rosmerta looked around at Harry, Hermione and Neville, unfocused, and nodded but remained silent.

"Good. My part can remain the same," Harry informed Hermione and Neville. "Though Neville," Neville stood to attention. "You will be the one who circled and struck from behind, alright?"

"Not exactly lying." Neville said with a brief, albeit tight, grin. He looked like he was still on a high after their success.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Harry tuned to her and asked gently. "They didn't do anything to you do they?"

Hermione shook her head quickly. "I slipped when we were trying to get out of the rain. I was Stunned and woke up out in the woods." She pointed back in the direction they came from. "The two idiots," she pointed to Crabbe and Goyle, "woke me after they'd tied me to the tree, but forgot to disarm me. I felt the ring burn, so I knew you would be coming. That man … Yaxley? He didn't bother checking. I waited for the right moment to break free."

Hermione leant down and put her hands on Harry's shoulders, her face close to his. "Now," she whispered softly and Harry immediately felt the urge to wince. He wasn't going to like the next part. "What in the name of God were you doing coming head on into a trap?"

"The longer the Death Eaters think that I'm a hot-headed kid the better, right?" he retorted a little sharper than he wanted. He shook his head. "What would I have done last year?"

"Charge in head on," Hermione answered slowly, a flicker of hurt on her face for the smallest moment. She tightened her grip on his shoulders slightly before releasing. "God, Harry," she whispered. "We have to be a lot more careful outside of the castle this year."

Harry stayed silent, wisely not mentioning the fact that she was the one who got captured.

"We'll be fine, Hermione," Harry said confidently. This win had given him a sense of confidence he had not felt in awhile. It was slightly intoxicating. Even though he knew it wouldn't last long.

"Neville, can we have a moment please?" Hermione asked with a tone that indicated it was pointless, if not painful, to fail to comply. Neville raised an eyebrow, risked a quick glance at Harry, who wore a blank expression, and gently shepherded Madame Rosmerta away.

To Harry's surprise, Hermione cast a Silencing Charm around the two of them the moment Neville was gone.

"Hermione?"

"This is getting worse, Harry," Hermione said worriedly. She looked troubled, deeply troubled.

"The Death Eaters?" asked Harry slowly, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

"First Amelia Bones, then the Hogwarts Express, Diagon Alley and now this," Hermione quickly ticked off on her figures the most recent, most influential attacks. "Do you realize what this means?"

"That Voldemort is becoming more confident, yes." Harry said. "It's not entirely unexpected. Besides the attacks on me, he's doing decently for himself."

Hermione pursed her lips and pondered her wording for a moment. She turned on her feet and started pacing up and down the mud ridden path Harry had travelled to rescue her.

"Killing Amelia Bones made sense," Hermione said after a moment. "From what you told me of your trial, she was strict, but fair. A few articles that mention her in the _Daily Prophet_ enforce that impression of her."

Harry was suddenly very thankful that Susan had left. It wasn't meant to be mean or anything of the like, but the way Hermione was speaking was without the usual compassion one would expect when discussing a dead woman, especially her aunt and the last of her family … that Harry knew of at least.

"So what?" Harry pressed quietly.

"As head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, with that personality, Madame Bones would have posed a great obstacle for," Hermione paused and took a deep breath, "Voldemort."

Nodding, Harry said, "She wasn't the type to be bribed or coerced into anything."

"Exactly," Hermione said, stopping her pacing and pointing to Harry as she spoke.

"But what has that got to do with anything besides the fact she would have been a great ally?"

"Attacking a high rank official, one so obviously opposed to Voldemort, would require a lot of confidence," Hermione explained hurriedly. "A failure would be catastrophic to his cause. Madame Bones would go into the deepest hiding available."

"_Fidelius_," Harry supplied, thinking of his parents. A thought occurred to him that he hadn't entertained before. Did his parents ever know the prophecy? He probably wouldn't get the answer and it didn't really matter. His parents were still murdered and he was still the prophecy child, but, somehow, it seemed _right_ that his parents had known, or should have known, what they had died for.

"Rumour has it Voldemort himself attacked her," Hermione continued, her eyebrows burrowed in concentration.

"He really didn't want the attack to fail if he went himself," said Harry slowly, his eyes losing focus, staring unseeingly at Hermione. This discussion was already wiping away his joyousness at the minor victory over Yaxley. Still, he did not have the heart to stop Hermione. When she got like this she usually came up with a solution, an answer or, unfortunately, a new problem.

"The attack on the Hogwarts Express was a very bold move," Hermione reasoned. "Three Death Eaters on a train full of schoolchildren are not good odds. But it nearly worked. Voldemort understands fear and how crushing it can be to an opposition. If we fear him, we can't fight at full strength. Fear kept the students at bay, from helping, from thinking straight."

"Two decades of calling him 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' means that very few can fight him properly then," said Harry sullenly.

Hermione grimaced, for she was guilty of that as much as the next person. "What I mean is his successful attack on Amelia Bones increased his confidence and his daring. The Hogwarts Express attack may have been a failure, but it does prove that there are few places that are truly safe."

"Hermione," Harry said tiredly. "Warming Charms aside, it isn't particularly comfortable out here. What's your point?"

Hermione flushed slightly and said exasperatedly, "Planned or unplanned attacks aside, his attacks are becoming more and more frequent, in more and more public places."

"I understand that, Hermione," Harry said softly. "And because of that, he's going to attack places of greater and greater importance. I don't know that much about war, but that makes perfect sense to me."

Harry paused and stared directly into Hermione's eyes. She bit her lip; a defensive gesture.

"What are you really worried about?" asked Harry seriously. Hermione didn't reply, but she didn't look away. She couldn't. 

"Our families, Harry. My family," Hermione eventually replied, bluntly at that.

"Oh," Harry said stupidly. He had, admittedly, completely forgotten about the danger the families of those he associated with would be in.

"I'm certain that the others are the same. After this, they are probably worried about themselves, too."

Harry nodded and digested this. Their hesitation … perhaps this was why?

"What can we do?"

"I don't know," she admitted, breaking eye contact.

"Voldemort doesn't seem to be too focused on attacking anyone except Aurors, Ministry workers and me at the moment," Harry replied, trying to reassure her. Mentioning himself probably wasn't wise in achieving that goal.

"I'm really worried, Harry," Hermione said softly, her voice nearly breaking. "It never occurred to me just how easily someone could be captured until today. If I was captured this easily, how can Muggles like my parents stand a chance?"

Harry stood up and laid a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder. "We'll find a way to keep them safe, alright?" he told her. "Everyone else's parents as well."

In two quick movements Hermione wiped both her eyes free of tears that were threatening to fall. It had been far too close a call than she would ever be comfortable with.

"Come on," Neville interrupted, calling out through the edge of the forest. "We've given them plenty of time to get an alibi if anyone bothers to notice. Let's go."

Harry released his grip on Hermione's shoulder, walked over to Madam Rosmerta, grasped her hand, directed her in the direction of the castle and let Neville and Hermione levitate the three prisoners.

It was only a short time after midday. Since he left Hogwarts, only an hour and a half had passed. It felt far longer.

There were a few students already returning from Hogsmeade as Harry, Hermione and Neville approached the castle. These early returnees were treated to the sight of Harry, with Madam Rosmerta on his arm, and Hermione and Neville levitating the bodies of Crabbe, Goyle and a third man nobody recognized. Unsurprisingly, Professor McGonagall was waiting for them at the entrance to the school. The word of the approaching sight passed quickly.

"Mr. Potter," she said in disbelief. "What in name of Merlin is this?"

"Professor, I think it might be best for us to visit Professor Dumbledore," Harry said politely, maintaining a firm hold on the still trembling Madam Rosmerta. "It would save me repeating myself."

Professor McGonagall looked a bit affronted, glanced at Madam Rosmerta, saw her condition and quickly recovered. "Come."

"Professor McGonagall what about their search?" Filch said angrily, as the three students walked straight past him, his hands itching to prod and probe the three students with his Secrecy Sensors.

"There is no need, Argus," McGonagall replied shortly. "These students are not the type to smuggle in anything."

Unhappily, Filch stood down and, a moment later, returned his attentions to other students returning early. Harry winced at what the treatment of the next student was going to be like.

Dumbledore was waiting in his office, as if expecting them, as always.

"Ah, Harry, Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom and Madam Rosmerta, care to explain this?" Dumbledore asked politely, and mildly amusedly at Hermione and Neville who unceremoniously had dropped their charges on top of each other, though Yaxley with a little more care due to his broken bones.

"Sir," Harry began, disregarding the pleasantries in favour of getting to the point. "These three are responsible for the kidnapping and attempted murder of Hermione."

"Murder?" Professor McGonagall repeated in shock. She looked at the bloodied faces of Crabbe and Goyle. "B-But these two are children!"

"Think who their parents are, Professor," Harry said patiently to McGonagall. "They're Death Eaters, or at least will be soon enough. It's only to be expected."

Harry turned back to Dumbledore. "When the storm started, Hermione and I were separated. I didn't realize until I had run for a few minutes to reach cover."

"Is that when you accosted Mundungus in the Hog's Head?" Dumbledore inquired, eyes twinkling.

Harry was taken aback. How'd he known that?

"The barman and I have had a long and rich relationship," Dumbledore explained as if reading his mind, though Harry could tell he wasn't. "He informed me of your reaction to Mundungus stealing Sirius' belongings." Hermione and Neville gave him questioning looks. Harry ignored them.

"Did you know?" Harry asked, clenching his fists, radiating anger at the thought of the thief.

"No I did not, Harry," Dumbledore answered, shaking his head briefly. "I expect that he will not return to Headquarters at all after your words of warning."

Harry stood steadfast. He didn't regret threatening the thief. "As long as he doesn't steal anymore of Sirius' stuff…"

"That foul thief has been stealing Black family heirlooms?" Phineas Nigellus' portrait interrupted Harry. All eyes, except those of Dumbledore, turned to him. "He's been looting the items of the Black heritage?" he continued, outraged. Without waiting for an answer, he then walked off, presumably to visit his painting at Grimmauld Place and see what was taken.

"I'm certain he won't try anything, Harry," Dumbledore placated Harry, ignoring the interruption. "From what I heard, you were very convincing."

"Good," Harry replied. Hermione, Neville and McGonagall were watching this banter, all equally curious to what happened in the Hog's Head. Madam Rosmerta on the other hand just stood in a corner of the room, looking about, not entirely aware of what was happening.

"Please continue, Harry," Dumbledore urged, sending Madam Rosmerta a quick gaze every now and then to check her condition.

"After I met Dung, I remembered Hermione. I was worried, so I went out to find her," Harry explained. "Neville met me while I was searching for her and helped."

"We had no idea where she was, so Harry used a spell to track her," Neville continued for Harry. "We found her in a section of the Forest outside the gates of Hogwarts. She was tied to a tree with these three," Neville shot a glare at the three unconscious, bound prisoners, "Watching over her. Harry got the idea to Disillusion me, to appear alone, and send me around the back so all attention was focused on him."

"I walked straight up to them, distracted them so Neville could take out Crabbe and Goyle, and then together we got this one." Harry knelt down and pointed to Yaxley. "He wasn't at the rebirth, so he must be reasonably new."

"Yaxley, I believe his name is," Dumbledore said, nodding. "He was a student here."

"A Slytherin," McGonagall added, recalling the student.

"Not surprisingly," Harry said getting back to his feet. "Quite a few Slytherins are Death Eaters to be, with these two high among them." Harry pointed to Malfoy's sidekicks.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore admonished. "Just because two students are involved, doesn't mean the rest of them." Harry was undeterred. He had been expecting this. It was an admirable, if not slightly foolish, trait the Headmaster had, the belief that there was good within everyone.

"With respect, sir," Harry challenged, "Everything bad thing that has happened to me here has been because of a Slytherin, past or present, with the exception of a past Gryffindor. I believe I have every right to be suspicious of the other Slytherins." Hermione nudged him, a glare on her face. Harry knew he was going to get lectured about respect to Professor's later.

"Mr. Potter, beyond that do you have any evidence that there was any other involvement?" McGonagall asked shortly, bothered by her charges attitude. "And what of Madam Rosmerta, why is she here?"

"Madam Rosmerta was unfortunate and unlucky enough to get involved in this. She was put under the _Imperius_ and was the one who kidnapped Hermione. Neville and I didn't know who she was because she was wearing a cloak to hide her identity so we merely Stunned her," Harry explained, calming himself down. Their refusal to believe him was not helping his trust in them both.

"The Imperius Curse?" McGonagall repeated in disbelief. She walked over to the bartender and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Rosmerta, are you alright?" Rosmerta started again at the contact, nodded at McGonagall and slumped to the floor.

McGonagall knelt down immediately to help her back up. The Professor shot a look at Dumbledore.

"I'll get Madame Pomfrey to take a look at her in a moment, Minerva. I have something to ask her when we are done with Mr. Potter," Dumbledore informed them. "Continue," he said to Harry.

"You've taught these two for five years, Professor McGonagall; do you really believe they could cast the Imperius Curse?" Harry asked seriously. "I'm not talking about whether they would or not, whether they have the _ability_ to. Barty Crouch Jr. told us that not everyone has the ability to cast the Unforgivables."

McGonagall from her position on the floor did her best to search Harry for something before sighing. "No, I honestly would be surprised if they could," she admitted, returning her attentions to Madam Rosmerta.

"Madam Rosmerta told me that the last thing she remembered before waking up in the Forest were several Hogwarts students entering the Three Broomsticks," Harry nudged Yaxley with his foot. "That crosses this one off the list." Harry then stared straight into the eyes of the Headmaster, McGonagall and back again. "Try and tell me that that isn't suspicious."

"I agree completely, Professors," Neville spoke. Harry, Hermione, McGonagall and Dumbledore all turned their attentions on him. Neville was taken aback by the sudden attention but recovered quickly. "Crabbe and Goyle barely are able to finish their classes. They are also repeating their fifth year. From what the Fake-Moody told us, the _Imperius_ takes a bit of skill. Frankly, they couldn't."

"I was also there when Madam Rosmerta told Harry what she remembered," Neville continued. Thinking back to what the bartender had said, Harry thought of an idea.

"Madam Rosmerta?" he asked gently, kneeling beside her. Rosmerta looked up at Harry and gave him a small smile, her eyes a little more focused than before. "Were there any other patrons inside the room before the Hogwarts students entered?"

Rosmerta shook her head slowly, thinking. "I don't normally get many customers till lunch time. The breakfast group was long gone."

"See," Harry rounded back on the two Professors, standing again. "I don't have definitive proof of who did it, but I have the right to be suspicious of Slytherins in the school." Harry locked gazes with Dumbledore again. "And I know you can appreciate the art of educated speculation, sir."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, slightly impressed at Harry's perseverance. "This does not rule out the involvement of someone else, however I will take your speculations into account in the investigation, Harry."

"I have one more thing to add, Professor," Harry interrupted before he was dismissed. "The person at the top of my suspect list is undoubtedly Draco Malfoy."

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed tiredly.

"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy have been a trio for the past five years," Harry continued as if nothing had happened. "You rarely see one without the other two." Harry did realize this also referred to the old Harry, Hermione and Ron. "I find it hard to believe that Malfoy wasn't involved."

"Thank you, Harry," Dumbledore said dismissively. "I believe I have all the information I need. I'll take care of the Auror Investigation. You may go now."

Harry nodded, expecting to be dismissed as usual, turned and left. Neville and Hermione followed him straight away.

"Harry," Hermione hissed as soon as they reached the stairwell. "What in the name of Merlin was that?"

"Can you honestly say that you believe Malfoy isn't involved in something that Crabbe and Goyle are?" Harry retorted, rounding on her, venting his frustration at the lack of helpfulness by both the Headmaster and his Head of House. "What is with you this year, Hermione? Why do you refuse to believe what's right in front of you?"

Hermione flushed, her expression livid. "Would you stop saying that Malfoy's a Death Eater, Harry?" she said impatiently. "You don't have any proof and –"

"And educated speculation is not good enough for you?" Harry interrupted; stopping passed the Gargoyles and facing Hermione fully in the hallway.

"Harry," Neville said softly.

"Honestly, Harry, speculation isn't proof," Hermione shot back, batting a stray hair from her face.

"We've speculated before and you were all for it," Harry countered, gesturing to Hermione at his mention of her past actions.

"Harry," Neville said a little louder.

"We've been wrong before too," Hermione replied. "Remember Snape first year?"

"Who would've suspected Quirrell?" Harry said quietly. "He was one nobody paid attention too. Snape was constantly involved in whatever went wrong that year and treated me like dirt. How could I not have suspected him? What do you suppose Malfoy is up to in the Room all the time? He isn't using it for fun. Have you noticed how he's paler than ever, dark lines under his eyes? Notice how he hasn't bothered anyone lately? Whatever he's up to is important enough to concentrate on it completely."

"Harry," Neville repeated a third time, louder than ever.

"What?" Harry and Hermione yelled at the same time.

"You forgot the necklace," Neville said quietly.

"Bloody hell," Harry swore, reached into his pocket and removed the necklace. He had told everyone about it on the walk to find Hermione.

"Is that…?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening in recognition.

"The one you wanted to know how much it cost when we were tailing Malfoy in Diagon Alley. Yeah," he finished for her. "Don't touch it without gloves on. Merlin knows what it does." Harry added as he noticed Neville begin to reach out for it.

Harry turned around and walked back to the Gargoyle statues and said the password. "Snickers." The Gargoyles moved aside to reveal the staircase. Hermione and Neville were right behind him.

"What do you think of Harry's speculation?" Harry heard McGonagall's voice penetrate the door. Harry, startled, was about to announce his presence when he felt instead that it would be to his advantage to listen, and knelt down to do so. Neville and Hermione followed suit.

"About Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore asked for confirmation, though Harry could tell he knew exactly who McGonagall had referred too. "Even if he is guilty, nothing will happen."

"What?" McGonagall replied, shocked. Harry clenched his hands on the cold stone.

"Lucius may be in prison, but there are many in the Ministry that still owe him a lot," Dumbledore said solemnly. Harry could imagine the Headmaster rubbing his eyes. "Those people would prevent Mr. Malfoy from being expelled or suspended."

"But if Harry is right, aren't other students in constant danger around him?" McGonagall asked worriedly.

"If there was definitive proof, then things might turn out differently. A memory from Madam Rosmerta would be chalked up to be unreliable because of the Imperius Curse. At any rate," Dumbledore sighed. "Keeping him close might give us the chance to keep an eye on him."

"So you're saying that we do nothing?" McGonagall asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied.

Harry turned to his two companions; each sharing the same despondent look on their own faces. Sighing, he stood up and knocked on the door.

"Enter," Dumbledore said. Harry opened the door.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall started, seeing her student back again.

"Sir, I forgot to mention something else," Harry said placing the necklace on the desk. "Before I met Dung, I was in The Three Broomsticks. Someone bumped into me and I found this in my pocket shortly afterwards. It's a necklace that was for sale at Borgin & Burke's during the summer. I don't know what it does, but it didn't do anything to me with gloves on. S-Someone nearly touched it with their skin, but I stopped them." Harry had nearly named Su. He didn't want to reveal any names to anyone outside of their group. "Unfortunately I didn't see who it was that slipped it into my pocket. By that time, there were quite a lot of people in the inn," Harry finished.

Dumbledore stared at Harry and then at the necklace. Professor McGonagall kept her eyes on Harry the entire time.

_She probably knows that I heard them. Actually, I'm sure they both do._

"It's a good thing you were wearing gloves, Harry," Dumbledore announced after an examination with his wand. "This would've killed you had it touched your skin."

"Killed?" Hermione interrupted. She turned her attention to Harry, the earlier argument momentarily forgotten.

"Yes, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore confirmed, making a few more movements with his wand before pocketing it.

"Sir, if I may speculate further?" Harry asked politely. Dumbledore studied him for a moment before motioning for him to continue. "I don't believe this was meant for me."

"Why do you believe that, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, still on the floor with Madam Rosmerta.

"The person who gave it to me should've seen that I was wearing gloves. Also, that person would've known that only skin contact would get the necklace to work. If it were me, I would've pressed the necklace to my face. I wouldn't have expected that." Harry paused.

"But that makes this situation worse," Harry continued. "Whoever gave it to me either was desperate for it to work, or doesn't care who he or she kills before they get to their target."

"Thank you for showing me this, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said more honestly than he did before. "You may leave unless you have anything else in those pockets you wish to give me?" he finished with his eyes twinkling.

Harry nodded and walked out the door for the second time. Hermione and Neville followed him again. The three of them made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Can I have a word with Hermione alone?" Harry asked. Neville nodded and continued ahead.

"What is it?" Hermione said defensively.

"Sorry, about the fight before," he said sheepishly.

"Me too," Hermione sighed. "I'm finding it hard to trust your word lately… I think this is starting to get worse."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. He didn't what came over him, to lash out at Hermione like he had. "I hope that doesn't last or we find who's behind this soon. We're going to need to trust each other more than ever."

Hermione just nodded, confused as to why her own mind was resisting Harry's logic.

Harry walked silently beside her, trying to figure out what was affecting them if it wasn't a potion. His mind abruptly blanked and he miss-stepped. Hermione sent him an odd look and asked if he was alright.

With a shake of his head, he continued on after Neville, Hermione at his side, suddenly far more chipper.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Unsurprisingly, Malfoy was still at school the following day. He looked a little worse for wear, but he was always looking that way nowadays.

Crabbe, Goyle and Yaxley had been removed from the school grounds. The Dark Mark on Yaxley's left forearm gave him a mandatory sentence of five years in Azkaban, and Crabbe and Goyle had been expelled. Reluctance of the Headmaster to expel students aside, they had participated in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Hermione which was inexcusable, even in Dumbledore's eyes.

Their case would go to trial in the following weeks. For now, they were held in the Ministry, or so Harry had been told.

Once again, Harry had become front page news. The Daily Prophet the following morning had been plastered with an eye catching headline.

'**Boy-Who-Lived' More Competent than Ministry?**

"At least she hasn't lied," Harry remarked to Hermione, Neville and Katie who were sitting with him at breakfast, placing the paper down and returning to his meal.

"Never a dull moment with you, is there?" Katie winked at him. She was in a far greater mood now that she was back in the castle.

"I was there were," replied Harry, completely ignoring the wink.

"Hiya, Harry." A familiar voice interrupted their conversation. It was Ginny.

"Uh, hi Ginny," Harry said, taken aback. She hadn't said much to him since she 'apologized' after he returned. Ginny shot him a winning smile and sat down next to Katie.

"Whatcha talking about?" she asked, filling her plate with toast, sausages and eggs.

Harry, Neville, Katie and Hermione all shared odd looks. "Nothing in particular," Neville said slowly.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Neville mentioned that Herbology would start soon. Harry, Hermione and Neville bade their farewells. Parvati caught Harry eye for a moment, before resuming a conversation with Ginny.

"I can't believe nothing will happen with Malfoy," Neville exclaimed when they had left the Great Hall. The three walked in time with each other up the staircases to Gryffindor Tower.

"There's no conclusive proof that he was involved," Hermione huffed. "We can't just blame by association."

"Like I said before, Malfoy is always involved in whatever Crabbe and Goyle are," Harry sighed. "He's just smart enough not to let himself get caught as easily as they are."

"So what can we do?" Neville asked the obvious question.

"Wait until he makes a mistake," Harry answered, walking down the steps out into one of the brief moments of sunlight in the increasingly clouded skies. "We'll keep on him, using whatever methods we can think of, until he missteps. It's inevitable. Everyone makes a mistake. We just have to be ready to take advantage of it."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"How did we do, overall, honestly?"

The members of the DA were seated in the Room of Requirement. Harry had asked the question, and was waiting for the response.

"Splendid," Ernie answered first, emphatic even in a single word. "It was a complete success. No injuries on our part, and three captured enemies. What's the problem?"

"Ten on four –" Hermione started seriously, aware of the problem as much as Harry was. "- should not have taken that long, not when two of them were below average fighters and a third under the _Imperius_."

"Agreed," Padma added; the same went for her. "Our victory should have been far swifter than it was. Yaxley was the only dangerous opponent and he was allowed far too much time to manoeuvre, regardless of the inevitable loss on his part."

"That's what I thought," Harry agreed. He couldn't deny, however, their use of terminology was certainly not his own.

"Hang on," interrupted Neville, raising his hands in a halting gesture. "What you two have just brought up is good and all, but there's no need to start considering that fight a failure because of a mistake."

"No one's saying that, Neville," said Susan admonishingly. "…right?" she added a little less certainty, looking towards Harry hopefully.

"Not at all," Harry responded quickly and reassuringly. "Practice in here is useful, very useful in fact, but there are definitely limitations. For many of you, that was your first ever fight, right?"

Susan, Hannah, Su, Padma and Ernie nodded. Harry, curiosity getting the better of him, looked and noticed that Daphne didn't react to the question and couldn't help but ponder what that meant.

"A real fight for your life is far different from our miniature duels," Hermione summarized. She bit her bottom lip gently and added, "I've the experience to know that for a fact."

Harry sent an apologetic look, not entirely sure how to convey any semblance of apology to her in vocal form for bringing that upon her, and then refocused on the group.

"Look, I'll say this plain and simple," Harry began, eyeing the Slytherin expectantly. "The two groups rounded up Crabbe, Goyle and Rosmerta pretty quickly, right?" The others nodded. "After that, they should have joined the battle with Yaxley, Hermione and me quicker."

Daphne faced him for the first time during this conversation and met his gaze. She cocked a questioning eyebrow and did nothing more. It was a better reaction than he had been expecting.

"We're not going to get this perfect the first time, so let's put it behind us as a useful learning experience and keep practicing."

For the next two hours, they did just that. Scenarios of the battle in the Forbidden Forest were played out to show how the outcome could have been reached earlier. By the end of the day, the general consensus was that the fight had been productive, if in nothing more than teaching the difference between real and practice fights.

On his way out of the Room of Requirement, Harry shuddered out of the blue. He wasn't feeling all that well.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was kept busy in the week coming up to Halloween. Despite having no homework, he spent the time he wound down from the day reading Hermione's notes from class to make sure he knew everything he was supposed to. He, for once, was able to grasp everything in class and, along with Hermione and Padma, was able to perform the class activity quite easily.

The DA was continuing to improve exponentially. The relatively easy victory against the Death Eaters the previous weekend had boosted all of their confidence. Ernie, to everyone's dismay, did end up gloating about how easy the task laying ahead of them looked if that was the best the Death Eaters had. From the combined efforts of Harry, Susan and Hannah, and a not so subtle threat from Daphne, this attitude was quashed very quickly.

None, except Ernie, appeared to hold any illusions as to the difficulty of the task before them. This was one win against two mediocre wizards, a witch under the _Imperius_ and a powerful Death Eater. That was one thing. Fighting the rest of the rest of the Death Eaters would be far harder, as there was small chance that the next attack would be performed without at least a few reasonably skilled attackers.

Like in their regular classes, Harry made the change so that silent spell casting became mandatory. Luna, being the only fifth year involved, struggled. Harry was pushing her and he knew it, but would not have done it if he didn't believe she could manage.

Elsewhere, Harry noticed Parvati looking at him more and more. It unnerved him considerably. Had Padma talked to her? Why was she suddenly staring at him? Another thing he noticed was a growing friendship between her and Ginny. At most mealtimes he saw them sitting together. There was nothing wrong with either of them becoming friends, but he never saw it coming and it further unnerved him, for reasons he could never figure.

Speaking of women in his life, Harry still thought about Fleur quite often before he fell asleep. There had been no contact between either of them since he left nearly a month ago. But what was there to say to a woman who you had kissed for an hour even though she was engaged? Saying 'Hi, how are you?' seemed highly inadequate and, to his dismay, repeatedly left it alone, forcing his mind to think other thoughts.

Sending her messages would probably only complicate matters anyway. What if, like last time, he sent her an owl when Bill was in the same room? If they read it together…

The silverware and the locket that Mundungus stole now resided in a corner of his trunk, shrunken. The locket was an exception. It seemed to be resistant to magic. He tried to open it to no avail, and then, remembering some of the objects that resided in the House of Black during their clean out of the rooms, wisely decided against further experimentation.

Whatever peace of mind Harry had at Hogwarts soon left him however, on the morning after Halloween.

A flurry of owls disturbed the everyday conversations of the Hogwarts populous at breakfast. Dozens of owls, more than usual, flew to various students in each house. Harry had only started paying the owls his full attention when a series of gasps echoed in the Great Hall.

"Hermione?" Harry asked resignedly. He knew something had to be coming. Halloween had been quiet in the castle. The feast was wonderful and Harry enjoyed it to the fullest with Hermione, who had turned down Slughorn's offer for his Halloween party since none of her friends were attending, Neville and Katie, with Ginny dropping in and out of their conversation, and a brief visit from Susan, Hannah and Padma.

With their night uninterrupted, this could only mean something happened with Voldemort last night outside of Hogwarts. Hermione passed him a copy of the Daily Prophet, which only proved that assumption right.

**Second Mass Azkaban Breakout in a Year**

Harry read the article with increasing despair.

"All of them," Harry said in a quiet voice filled with malice. "Every last one that nearly killed us is back out there."

He couldn't believe it. How could this happen _again_? Surely after a dozen Death Eaters had been captured and imprisoned since the mass breakout the year before the Ministry would have taken more precautions with their prisoners? What was this new Minister playing at?

Harry risked a glance at Malfoy, who, surprisingly, was not looking back at him, smirking like he was expecting, but looking the same as he had for most of the term - tired and depressed. The shock of not seeing the Slytherin gloating at him wiped away most of the anger, at least temporarily.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. He felt her arm on his shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"Harry, what now?" Katie asked with a not so minor trace of fear in her voice.

'What now?' indeed. Voldemort's most valuable supporters, minus Bellatrix, which he knew of, had been imprisoned until last night. This was a serious blow, with some of Voldemort's best men back out there. Meanwhile, their side continued to lose Aurors and friends and family.

"What can we do except keep practicing?" Harry asked dejectedly. "We're not ready."

This was when it hurt the most, to be sitting on the sidelines and not out there trying to make a difference. It was his responsibility, thanks to prophecy and Voldemort's actions, and to an extent, he'd made his peace with that. Other people had sacrificed their lives for his sake, and now the results of their sacrifice had been undone.

Harry shook his head. He didn't feel that well. His felt his heart beat harder than usual, and he was sweating profusely.

_The hell is wrong with me?_

For a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Sound drained away, and then his sight disappeared. A myriad of images flashed before his eyes, only to be forgotten seconds later.

And then everything switched back on, like nothing had changed. The entire event had taken seconds.

"It's not like we can do anything else is there?" Harry found himself saying. "We don't know what Malfoy is up to, so we can't put a stop to it yet. For now, we'll keep going as we have."

Hermione gave him an odd look.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Confused, Harry watched Hermione for a moment, before shaking off the entire conversation and finishing his meal.

They'd think of something, soon.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next day during the DA meeting, the same topic was broached by the others members.

"Harry, I respect your stance, but if longer Malfoy has to work on this project the more danger it presents."

"I'm hearing you, Ernie, but unless you can offer some alternatives there's not much we can do."

Ernie's expression grew sour but held his tongue. Harry inwardly sighed. Outwardly, he turned to face the rest of the group who were gathered around him.

"If you've got ideas, I'm willing to hear them." Harry addressed the group. Silence was his response, until Daphne crossed her arms and huffed.

"There's one alternative you seem unwilling to discuss, Potter."

Harry matched her gaze and held his ground. "If you're thinking what I think you are, then yes, I have considered it. However, the consequences to that action right now are too much."

His response was somewhat predictable.

"At some point, you're going to have to start doing what is unpleasant, Potter." Daphne cautioned. Her tone was cold. "Not simply what's within your strict morals."

"What are you two talking about?" interrupted Susan, her expression conveying her displeasure at being left out of the conversation.

"The use of force," said Harry deadpan. "Forcing the information out of Malfoy."

"You can't be seriously considering this, Harry." Hermione scolded, stepping forward and fixing him with a disapproving expression. "Don't drag yourself down to their level."

"I don't like it either, Hermione." Harry said softly, calmly. Internally, he was frustrated at her reticence to accept this. He'd thought they were getting better again, but clearly not. "However, I freely admit that it will become a possible course of action if our other avenues fail to provide us what we need."

"As much as I want to agree with you Hermione, Harry does have a point." Neville said seriously. Hermione sent him a betrayed expression.

"I agree," Padma interceded, who sent an apologetic look to Hermione. Harry was slightly thankful for both Padma's support and consideration towards Hermione. "I don't like the idea of it either, but if we think about it realistically it may need to seriously consider it." Padma shook her head, visibly saddened by what she was saying. "These people... Malfoy doesn't have the same morals and values as we do, Hermione. Whatever he is doing is costing people their health and even lives now. This isn't a schoolyard game anymore."

Hermione looked affronted. She whispered, "It doesn't make it right."

Harry placed his hands on his temples and began rubbing. His glasses fell forward slightly to the bridge of his nose.

"You're right, Hermione," said Harry. He replaced his glasses and looked her in the eye. "It's not right. But it may be necessary. Trust me, I understand you, and I don't like it any better than you do. I'm trying to be realistic here. What else can we do if we come up empty in the future?"

Hermione pursed her lips. She theoretically understood Harry's point, but she was so vehemently opposed to the concept that she could barely withhold the urge to speak her mind.

After several moments, she nodded. That's all she could offer for now.

"Look, if I attack Malfoy, chances are I'd be expelled." Harry said, looking at each of them in turn. "Dumbledore's influence can only cover up so much. Worse yet, there's the possibility of using Veritaserum from Slughorn's reserves. While I don't know much about the legal system, I know enough to know that using Veritaserum without Ministry approval is punishable by Azkaban. I can't risk that."

That seemed to appease most. For the time being at least.

The group separated slowly and resumed their practicing. Harry, still deep in thought, did not notice the satisfied expression of Daphne's face.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Harry, can I have a word?"

It was an hour later and the meeting had drawn to a close. Most of the group had departed, though Hermione, Neville and Su remained. The first two were talking, waiting for Harry, while Su stood alone, waiting for her housemate.

Padma, to Harry's cursory examination, appeared hesitant, almost nervous, but spoke with conviction enough that Harry agreed without question. The pair moved a bit further from the stragglers.

"What did you want to say?" asked Harry once they were alone.

"I'm worried," Padma said simply, staring straight at him. Harry sent her a confused look.

"So am I," he replied uncomprehendingly. This wasn't something she needed to say in private.

"Not about the Death Eaters, Harry, about _you_." Padma said sharply, crossing her arms.

"Me?"

"No, the other Harry, twit."

"Why?" he asked, ignoring the sarcasm.

"You're not acting normally, Harry," she replied bluntly. Padma let out a sigh and gently uncrossed her arms, placing them on her hips instead. "I think you realize it as well, on some level. You aren't losing control or anything so dramatic, but you're acting differently. I can't describe it exactly, however I am sure something is wrong."

"From what Hermione tells me, you are always cool and collected under pressure, even at the Department of Mysteries." Padma continued after a breath. "Six Hogwarts students, all fifth years or younger against twelve of the best Death Eaters out there and you were still able to formulate a plan in seconds that allowed you lot to escape. Albeit, not the best plan, but you survived. That's far more than any normal person can expect."

"Hermione talks to you a lot," Harry remarked. Padma shrugged absently.

"We sit together in Ancient Ruins and Arithmancy now and work together on projects. That leaves us plenty of time to chat. That's not the point." Padma crossed her arms. "I know something is up, and I believe you're aware of it. Hermione, too. If you don't want me involved, I understand. However, I believe you should know that it is beginning to show."

Harry marvelled are her observation skills. She hadn't known him all that long and already she noticed changes? However...

"You haven't known me very long." Harry said aloud. "How do you know I'm acting weirdly?"

"Hermione has told me a lot about you, voluntarily and through answers to my own questions. I wanted to know exactly who I was dealing with after I joined."

"Did you find your answer?" asked Harry, more than a little surprised at how thoroughly Padma went through everything. To him, it seemed far too much of a hassle despite understanding the reasoning.

"Some answers," answered Padma, shrugging a second time. "I want personal experience to formulate any solid theories. But, again, that's not the point." She faced the remainder of the DA. Su kept glancing their way, as if she wanted to join them. Harry caught her eye and jerked his head in a 'come here' motion.

"Hermione understands as well," Padma said quietly. "About you acting oddly and about Malfoy. I'm sure she noticed the change before I did, she knows you so well. The rest of us... Investing ourselves in this army of yours... The task seems monumentally harder with all the Death Eaters on the loose. You aren't the only one."

"Both you and Hermione have hinted at something tying your future to Voldemort, that you have no choice," Padma said calmly, as Su stood up and made her way over to them. "The Hall of Prophecies is where the Death Eaters caught you, is it not?"

Harry faced her with an impassive expression, not giving an answer to a question she already knew.

"Logic leads me to the conclusion that there is a prophecy about you and a certain Dark Lord," Padma revealed, their eyes meeting again. Harry didn't say anything, he didn't need to. She found out on her own.

"This is why you started this, isn't it? You want help. I completely understand why you weren't forthright with the full truth, this is dangerous information."

"I warned you as best I could without outright saying it," Harry mumbled, casting his eyes downwards.

"You did," Su spoke for the first time in this conversation. Her voice was soft, calm. This time she didn't shy away. Perhaps it was because there was only Padma, the one person who she seemed to trust implicitly, and Harry himself.

"Look, I'll be blunt again," Padma said impatiently, tossing her hair aside. "You have, and have had, pressure mounted on you. Something like this new breakout would only create an amount of pressure that normal people can only discover in nightmares. All those Death Eaters escaping … as you said, undoes everything you've accomplished in the last six months. It's not fair. It's not right. It shouldn't have happened. It did, Harry, it did."

Harry sighed, facing the ground, eyes closed.

"I know. I know. It's not easy, though. All that effort." Harry looked up and blinked a few times. "Losing Sirius. And now they're all free. Who's to say if more Death Eaters are captured the Ministry will do a better job of keeping them prisoner?"

"We don't," Su said.

"Great. Terrific. Bloody brilliant, even."

"Feel any better?" asked Padma with a small trace of amusement at his response.

"Not really," Harry replied honestly. "But…" He took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I'm a bit calmer than I was." He spun and leaned against the wall with his back. "Thanks." He looked up at Hermione and Neville, who were now patiently waiting for him to return.

"Look, on what you were saying earlier," began Harry. He hesitated a moment. "I need to speak to Hermione first. We'll let you know, okay?"

"Okay." Padma replied. She appeared satisfied with the response.

"Thanks," Harry said softly. "For the honesty."

He received a smile in return.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"She's sharp." Harry said wryly.

"There's a reason she's second in the year, Harry." Hermione replied. Harry noted a bit of pride in her tone. Whether it was because she was considered first or whether at her successful choice of persons to help, Harry couldn't tell. He suspected it was both.

The two were in his dormitory. Ron, Dean and Seamus were downstairs doing who knew what. Neville had left for Library upon their arrival, sensing their need to talk alone.

Harry was restlessly pacing. "But now that she's noticed that this is affecting me, we can't continue to do this, Hermione," he insisted. "Waiting isn't working."

He didn't understand why, but he was incredibly frustrated at Hermione. Frustration might even be putting it mildly.

"I agree." Hermione said, startling Harry into ceasing his pacing.

"Excuse me?"

"The potion or whatever else it is..." Hermione said nervously. "You-we haven't been particularly civil with each other lately. This... this _thing_ that's affecting us is winning, isn't it?"

"What do you mean, Hermione?" asked Harry confusedly. Hermione looked at him strangely.

"I don't understand, Harry." Hermione said slowly. "We were just talking about it..."

"About what?"

Hermione stared back at Harry, as if he was joking. It was a poor joke, and in very bad taste. How could he joke about something this serious?

He wouldn't, Hermione knew. That meant something else. She began to worry.

"Have you forgotten what we talked about when you came for me after Ron destroyed this room?" Hermione asked apprehensively.

Harry's eyes glazed over as he remembered the night. "Love potions and spells?"

"That's right!" Hermione replied enthusiastically. Harry turned back to Hermione and smiled. Hermione looked back at him, watching his eyes. For a second, there was a flash of color in his eyes. It was so quick that Hermione thought it was just a trick of the light. What convinced her it had been something magical was what he said next.

"What were we talking about?" he asked.

She was about to get angry at him, to speak her mind, when she realized what had happened. Whatever it was that was influencing him was distracting his mind whenever he thought about someone casting spells on him, forcing it to think other thoughts.

_This isn't good…_ Hermione thought seriously. _But… it looks like this thing is getting stronger and that can help me determine who is controlling him._

Sighing, anxious, Hermione realized she was going to have to play her best friend. She'd have to watch him closely, see who he interacted with in the near future, and find out if anyone new was making friends with him. If there weren't any, that meant someone she knew was the culprit.

It didn't even cross her mind to ask for help.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning, Harry received a letter he had been anticipating for some times.

_It's ready._

_I'll be there Saturday week at eight a.m., in the Room. _

_F. _

The letter brought a large array of emotions to the forefront of his mind again. He never did get around to sending her any letters, for the same reasons over and over. What had happened to her in the past few weeks? Had she forgotten about it all and moved on with Bill?

Diverting his concentration away from that line of depressing thinking, he refocused on the important aspect of the letter.

The pensieve was ready at last.

This was a huge step. Everyone would be brought completely into the fold, prophecy and all. And it would happen soon.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The news of the pensieve and the excited that brought wore off within a few days. Few offers at solutions to any of Harry's problems revealed themselves.

After his latest lesson with Dumbledore, Harry had been assigned homework, the first for his sixth year. The task was to acquire a memory from Slughorn. The task proved to be difficult. It wasn't an unexpected development – if it were simple, Dumbledore would have accomplished it on his own.

The primary question on Harry's mind, however, was what exactly a Horcrux was. That was his homework. Getting the director's cut of Slughorn's memory of a conversation about Horcruxes with Tom Riddle.

Going directly to ask him wouldn't work, otherwise Dumbledore could've done it already. Why the Professor didn't use Legilimancy, ethics aside, was a mystery. That was, unless Slughorn was a master Occlumens, which Harry felt was unlikely. Ultimately, that left Harry with one thought.

Dumbledore wanted Harry and Harry alone to get it to prepare him for the war ahead. 'How' that worked was a matter he didn't bother considering.

Harry filled Hermione in on the two memories he had witnessed alongside Dumbledore. Hermione agreed that asking him straightforwardly was doomed to failure. This would require finesse.

Either that or a lot of Firewhiskey.

There was something else Harry had learned from the two memories that was of importance to himself and Hermione. She had mentioned that her dream clouded over constantly. Slughorn's memory had clouded over as well.

Hermione had already figured out that that meant the memory had been tampered with. It wasn't new news, but it was confirmation. It still hurt, for both had been holding onto what lingering hope there was over the Weasley family being innocent. Now it was looking worse and worse for them.

The dreams she was getting were now beginning to give her headaches. More than once in the week before and following the last DA meeting she was spotted clutching her head in pain, as though trying to hide it.

Harry gathered the smartest of the DA and asked for help with the task of getting Slughorn's memory. After all, he had made this DA for this purpose. To help.

A half hour of back and forth debate only offered Harry the conclusion he already knew. He would need to get close to Slughorn and hope to God he could find a moment where the overweight Professor would be more willing to share a memory he was going to great lengths to keep secret and push for it.

The silver lining to that weekend was the first Quidditch match of the season. As always, it was Gryffindor verses Slytherin, and as always, the match was fast and brutal.

The Slytherins played rough and borderline dirty. Unfortunately for the green house, the Chasers for Gryffindor were up to the task. The lack of Malfoy as Seeker provided Harry no real opponent and only aided their cause. Harper, the replacement, followed Harry around the pitch, searching for the Snitch, but mostly focusing on his opponent and desperately attempting to interfere in any play. Only luck had saved the Slytherins from losing within the first half hour of the match, as Harry had nearly caught it several times already, only to find it disappearing just as it was in reach.

Finally, with a broken right hand to serve as a badge of honor, Harry found the solution just before the match hit the hour mark.

He landed ungracefully in the Hufflepuff stands, which happened to be the ones in front of him as he caught the Snitch with his outstretched uninjured arm. For a moment, there was complete silence while Harry righted his footing. It was uncanny how quiet it was considering the hundreds of people in this single one hundred square meters. Then someone flipped back on the noise switch.

Hundreds upon hundreds of cheers erupted from three quarters of the stadium. Harry turned on the spot and saw five red and gold blurs closing in on him at full speed, with a sixth right behind them. Two seconds later, Harry was gang tackled by three ecstatic Chasers and two equally joyous Beaters.

For the next minute, Harry couldn't tell if up was down or left was right. For all he knew left was up and right was down…if that made sense at all he wouldn't have been surprised. A voice was screaming in his right ear, which he recognized as Demelza's, but the words were lost in translation as she wasn't the only one.

Slowly, bodies were removed from the pile on top of Harry. He was very lucky to have been knocked down on a landing and not a set of stairs, for that would have been incredibly painful. He was also very lucky that his broken right hand had managed to escape the enthusiastic onslaught from his teammates.

Harry got up unsteadily, still slightly dazed from the entire match, his hand and the subsequent assault. He was instantly hugged by Katie, Demelza and then Ginny, whom he was inexplicably disappointed to lose when she left. Coote and Peakes eagerly slapped him on his back and congratulated him on his first victory as Captain. Behind the two of them however, was where his attention found itself focused.

Ron was standing there, smiling uncomfortably. There was a long awkward moment between them, a stark contrast to the still celebrating crowd beside them. The only ones that seemed to notice the non-celebrating Harry and Ron were their teammates, who were standing far enough way to hear, but not impede, which was quite an achievement, considering the crowd volume.

There was no easy atmosphere between them anymore, not like there had been ever since that first day on the Hogwarts Express. Different choices, different mistakes had drawn them apart, Ron's mistake being a far larger one for their friendship than any of Harry's.

"Why the long faces people, we just won and won big!" Katie's enthusiastic voice interrupted the moment. Harry glared at the older girl for a moment. Over the roaring of the crowd, he could've sworn he heard Ron mutter the word 'mental'.

Despite himself, Harry grinned. Ron saw it and sheepishly returned it.

Mentally sighing, letting himself get caught up in the moment, Harry offered his left, uninjured, hand. Ron hesitated, looking between the hand and his former friend's face. In the end, he shrugged and grasped it. A quick shake and an uncomfortable retreat later, the two of them were interrupted by the rest of their team parading around the Hufflepuff stand enjoying the tumultuous applause.

In the undeniable euphoria of such a glorious win over their most hated rivals, the former best friends managed to push their unsolved problems with each other apart from their celebrations. They would stand side by side, uncommunicative to one another, but on the same team.

It was one of the magics of sport that Muggles could experience too. How sport was able to bring people together, even with their differences, if only for one afternoon. That was the magic of Quidditch, something Hermione did not understand. But nor had Harry until he had played.

"Brilliant flying, Harry!" Neville called to him as soon as he was spotted exiting the change rooms. Harry grinned and waved, left handed of course, walking over to the five. Hermione hugged him carefully as soon as he was within reach.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Harry," she said to him. "I was so worried."

"You aren't the only one," Padma said wryly. Hermione blushed and let Harry go. Her spot was replaced with Padma before Harry knew what was happening. He had to admit, it wasn't an unpleasant situation.

Demelza popped up beside him a moment later.

"Great match, eh, Harry?" she said smiling up at him. Coote and Peakes joined them and Katie, Ginny and Ron another moment later.

Ginny gave him a one armed hug, which Harry reciprocated immediately. Over Ginny's shoulder, he noticed Hermione eyeing them. What was that about?

The hug ended and, as if it were planned, a quiet came over the group. All eyes turned to Harry, making him slightly uncomfortable, but he had expected it.

"Congratulations everyone," Harry said to the Quidditch team. "I knew you all had it in you." A short pause followed.

"Not your best speech, but good enough, Captain," Katie grinned at him. He grinned back. He was not one for speeches anyway.

"Better than Wood's two or three hour lectures on manoeuvres," Harry reminded the only other member of his original Gryffindor team. "Those just went on and on…"

"And on and on and on…" Katie continued for him.

"And on and on and on…" Harry and Katie continued simultaneously.

"We get it," Susan and Hannah interrupted the two Gryffindors. Harry and Katie only laughed.

The seven Quidditch players and five spectators turned and started walking back to the castle. An in-depth discussion of the game was underway within seconds. Even Hermione, the biggest anti-Quidditch person in the school, joined in with a few of her own points and favourite moments.

The grounds were now nearly empty; few students remained in the vicinity of the Quidditch pitch. A dozen or so students were a ways ahead of them, heading back to the castle, and some others heading towards the lake to enjoy the afternoon.

The peace was not to last however.

Harry was laughing at Padma's excellent description of one of the failed attempts of the Slytherin Chasers shots on goal, which Ron was conspicuously pleased to hear, when he looked up and saw the entire Slytherin Qudditch team ahead of him. With them were a few others in the same house, Seventh years and below.

"Here we go," Harry muttered resignedly to himself. Susan, Hannah and Hermione heard him and looked up and saw the same sight. One by one, the group stopped. Roughly fifteen meters separated the two groups. No wands were drawn, but one could not mistake the immediate tenseness in the atmosphere.

The captain of the Slytherin team took a step forward from his teammates. His name was Urquhart if Harry remembered correctly.

"Can I help you?" Harry said while taking a step forward from his group. His voice was neither peaceful nor threatening.

"You owe us a broom, Potter." Urquhart stated boldly, showing more confidence than Harry was certain he had. There was no Malfoy as the ring leader in sight. He was always the foreman for these challenges. It was truly pathetic to see the Slytherins' attempt to antagonize him without their beloved leader.

"How does that work out?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. He turned to look at Katie and Hermione on his right and shot them a questioning look. It may have been unwise to turn his back to the entire Slytherin Quidditch team after thrashing them but he was confident in the abilities of his DA members if not his fellow teammates. Any curse wouldn't get through and would be returned in much better quality and larger quantity.

"When you weaved in and out of the Slytherin Chasers that time, Harper tried to follow and crashed into two of them." Katie explained. Harry turned back to Harper and saw his broom in two pieces in his hands. That explained the crunch and yells he had heard. He unsuccessfully stifled a laugh at the mental image of the crash.

"I fail to see how this means I owe you a broom," Harry replied in the same voice he had greeted them with after he composed himself. "You're the one who failed to follow my lead."

The Slytherins exchanged looks with one another.

"If that's all, I'd like to return to the castle now." Harry continued. "Injuries, you know," he added, pointing to his right hand. Had this been outside of Hogwarts, pointing out a weakness would have been a big mistake, but, atmosphere aside; there was no real chance of a duel breaking out.

Two of the Slytherins made moves to leave, but were stopped by the joint glares from the others. It seemed the decision to confront Harry wasn't unanimous.

Harry shifted his weight to his left foot and began tapping his right foot into the ground. He watched all seven Slytherins glance at his foot and then back at him.

_They're nervous…so why are they really here?_ Harry pondered. _They couldn't honestly expect me to pay for a broom I didn't even break._

"This is a warning, _Potter_," One of the Slytherins Harry had not met before jeered. "Stay away from Malfoy and you won't be bothered by us."

"Excuse me?" said a surprised Harry, raising an eyebrow. When, if ever, would Slytherins actually act as subtle as they were rumoured to be? If anyone was, it would be Daphne, and she wasn't even on these idiots' side.

"You heard 'em, Potter. Steer clear and nothing bad'll happen," another added. Harry couldn't see where the voice had come from, the person hidden between numerous others.

_Coward,_ Harry thought distastefully.

"Whatever Malfoy is up to is of concern to us," Hermione responded in a haughty voice she reserved for people such as these, stepping up from behind Harry. "Voldemort –" a serious of predictable gasps emanated from both sides of the confrontation. They were ignored. "- has seen fit to entrust a task to him, and excuse me for believing it isn't in the best interest of student safety."

"Keep quiet, mudbl –"

"- Oh, I would recommend you keep that sentence unfinished, if you know what's good for you," Harry threatened, uninjured hand reaching for his robes and, incidentally, his wand.

Whispers broke out amongst a small group of the Slytherins. Harry maintained his tense state, waiting for a movement to give him an excuse to draw his wand. The rest behind him were either in a similar state of mind or, in particular those not in Harry's group, watching the proceedings with no subtlety masking their confusion.

The Slytherin captain scowled darkly in Harry's general direction. Harry couldn't help but wonder at their purpose. There was no real cohesion to their actions. They were divided and had no intimidating presence beyond numbers. Whatever their purpose, it wasn't to put him off, despite their words.

"We done, then?" questioned Neville.

There was a long moment of tense silence where nobody really made any move to do anything.

"Right," Harry said, breaking it. "Let's go everyone."

Not waiting for a response, Harry starting walking directly at the Slytherins. He didn't even pay any attention to their reactions. They were a pest, nothing more.

One by one Harry's group started following him.

Harry stopped when he was level with Urquhart. He didn't look at him though the other captain was looking directly at him.

"I don't know for what reason you did this," Harry said quietly, but loud enough for every one of them students to hear. "But it isn't too late to choose your side. If you follow Malfoy, you'll lose, simple as that. I just hope you realize that before you've all gotten yourselves killed."

"Is that a threat?" one of them inquired, outraged. A number of them made moves to reach for their wands before the captain put his hands up and halted the movement.

"No," Neville answered immediately, stepping forward.

"It's truth," proclaimed Susan condescendingly, stepping up beside Neville.

Harry started walking again and made it to the castle unhindered. He waited for the rest to catch up to him, as they had warily waited moments longer than he in case of a sneak attack. He received a few peculiar looks, particularly from Ron, Coote and Peakes, and a few genuine smiles, particularly from Hermione, Susan, Hannah, Padma and Neville.

"Come on," Katie said cheerfully, the entire event forgotten to her already. "We've got a party to attend."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Madame Pomfrey expressed her disapproval at his injury in a variety of manners. Most obvious, however, was verbal. It took half an hour until she was satisfied he'd been lectured enough. The injury had taken five minutes to repair.

Harry endured the lecture relatively good-naturedly. The matron had taken care of him on enough occasions to earn a little leniency. However, it did mean he was now really late for the Gryffindor celebratory party. He'd told the team and his friends to go on ahead, though only after his insistence did Padma and then Hermione comply.

Walking quickly out of the Hospital Wing, Harry turned a corner and collided with something. Judging from the 'oomph' sound it was a someone.

"Oh – I'm sorry," Harry said immediately, quickly reaching out to steady the person he had collided with. Unfortunately, through reflex, he had used his stronger arm, his right arm. He gasped with the sudden pain from the movement and task of steadying a human and let go instinctively.

A soft thud sounded in the hallway as the other person hit the stone floor. Harry, grasping his right hand, looked up to see a young woman on the floor before him.

"Sorry," Harry repeated. He gestured with his right hand. "Broken hand."

"T-that's alright," replied the young woman. She was short-ish, had light brown hair and brown eyes. She stood shakily, and then brushed herself off.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I'm fine. I wasn't looking where I was going."

"I wasn't either," Harry offered, trying to alleviate the poor girl's guilty feelings. The young woman looked curiously at him for a moment then apologized again and walked past him. Harry stepped aside and let her through, watching her go.

Strange. He recognised her, vaguely. Megan Jones, Harry thought her name was. After a moment's contemplation, however, he pushed the encounter from his mind and continued his trek to the Gryffindor tower. Soon enough he arrived outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, only to find someone waiting for him.

Someone beautiful. Short and slim, with long red hair.

Ginny.

His heart fluttered.

It took him several moments to recover his wits, and several more to realise the abnormality of that reaction. Where had that come from?

"Hi Harry," said Ginny, beaming at him. "You did amazing out there. I wanted to congratulate you again."

"Thank you," he replied automatically. He felt inordinately pleased by her praise.

Ginny stepped forward and hugged him tightly. It was much better than the one he had received in front of everyone an hour ago.

"You're a great Captain."

The hug continued for a moment longer than was generally considered comfortable from friends, but Harry didn't mind. In fact, he was saddened when she finally released him.

"Come on then. Let's join the party!" Ginny said brightly. He followed her into the common room, to the cheers and praise of her housemates.

Thoughts of how strange this was mysteriously vanished.

-x-x-x-x-x-

At eight on Saturday, the DA was seated around a table, awaiting the imminent arrival of the pensieve.

_And Fleur._ Harry reminded himself.

His emotions were a mess. What could he say to her after what they'd shared during his stay in France? Were she and Bill even together still? Her letters had been direct and succinct. To be fair, he had not said anything to her either. Like now, he had no idea what to say. They weren't together, but they weren't simply friends anymore.

Time had begun to dull the memory of her, of that night but also her in general. With so much else to remember, it wasn't a surprise. However, Harry still vividly recalled the happiness he had felt while he stayed with her.

And yet, because Fleur was engaged, he had a sinking feeling that this day would end poorly.

"She's late." Ernie noted.

Harry checked the time with Padma's watch. It was a few minutes past. Harry felt an irrational urge to snap at Ernie. She could take as long as she needed. Instead, he refocused his attentions to the people before him.

It would difficult reliving his past. He had to go in with the rest of the students to be their tour guide, to explain things as they happened so everyone understood. Each of them had to understand exactly what life would be like, at least as far as Harry could show, if they chose to follow him. It was important that there would be no misconceptions. Harry only wanted to do it once, so he had to do it right.

Trust was important, and he trusted all the DA members now, at least to some extent. Over the past two and a half months he had become friends of different degrees to each of them. After today, he would release them from their oaths if they chose to stand by him. Today he would explain exactly what he wanted.

There was a knock at the door.

Ten out of eleven in the room turned to the door. Daphne was the only one uninterested.

Harry stood up and slowly walked to the door. It seemed to take an age, but he was there before he knew it.

Hand grasping the knob, he took a deep breath, and opened it.

Nothing.

Confused, Harry took a step forward and looked down the corridor to see if there was anyone there. There wasn't.

"I'm under a cloak," whispered Fleur, her voice close. His heart skipped a beat.

Understanding her, he stepped back inside and held the door open as Fleur stepped inside and removed an Invisibility Cloak. She knew, Harry thought, how to make an entrance.

She looked as gorgeous as ever, perhaps even more so, though Harry might have been the only one in the room to think so. A simple halter top and a pair of jeans were all she wore, but she wore it as if it were second skin.

It took a moment to notice it, but in her hands was a large package. Harry stepped forward and grabbed it off her. His fingers brushed against hers in the process, and Harry nearly dropped the pensieve.

_I'm acting like an idiot._

Harry led Fleur to the table and set down the pensieve. While Fleur was welcomed by the group with varying degrees of warmness, Harry unwrapped the pensieve and set on the table.

The newly crafted pensieve was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship. Fleur had spared no expensive in providing the best. Thankfully, Harry's wealth meant it made only a little dent in his funds.

Retaking his seat and focusing on the task at hand, setting aside his thoughts of Fleur for later, Harry examined the faces around the table. They ranged from apprehensive, to stoic, to anxious, to simple curiosity. This was a big moment, the biggest moment yet this year. They'd been waiting for this for weeks, and it was finally here.

"Are we ready?" asked Harry, carefully watching the group. "This is an advisable time to drop out if you have any fears about where we are headed. Once we've viewed these memories, nothing will be the same. You'll understand that we are up against immense odds. I have no delusions about that. I'm trying to ensure you understand what you're in for."

Nobody spoke for a moment, but one by one they expressed their assent.

"Okay." Harry said. "Then let's begin."

-x-x-x-x-x-

After dinner, which Dobby provided in the Room of Requirement, the DA one by one departed. The day had brought many revelations for the majority of the room. The memories answered so many questions and unveiled the truth beyond dozens of rumours surrounding Harry and his adventures. More than that, the experiences that Harry had had in his time at Hogwarts were shown as exciting, yes, alarming, and ultimately dangerous. Everyone had become far more aware of the dangers awaiting them, and for some, it shook them deeply. The memories questioned many beliefs, and inspired some upon seeing Harry's strength and resilience. They accomplished exactly what Harry had said.

Nothing would be the same from here on out.

All had been affected in some fashion, and it showed. Harry himself felt the exhaustion he could see in other people. It had been draining watching his memories, reliving some of his worst moments. However, reviewing the memory of the Department of Mysteries provided some final closure about Sirius's death. He would've done the same thing had he the same information as he did that night. There was nothing he could've done.

Harry had watched all of them while the memories were being played. He had literally been there and done that. There was little to garner from the experiences that he had not his first time around, but he dived into the memories regardless to answer questions and narrate the in-between moments.

Hermione had remained suspiciously quiet throughout the day, or at least quiet in his direction. She had participated in the debates after each memory about what they meant and the meaning behind what certain people had said. A few ideas had cropped up, most particularly insights into Voldemort's thinking. Harry was beginning to believe he understood how Voldemort thought sometimes. It was a disturbing thought.

Daphne's response had been the most neutral. That wasn't to say she hadn't expressed interest. In fact, she was perhaps the one with the most questions. The initial scorn at the concept of 'love' being the power-he-knows-not by the majority of the group quickly turned into a debate about the possibilities, led by Daphne, of all people.

Right before his conflict with Quirrel, Harry had been hugged by Hermione, which was the first true hug he could remember. Against the Basilisk, his love for the Weasley's had been present. His love of Sirius, the idea of him and what he presented – a connection to his parents, and a way to escape the Dursley's – could've been a factor in his successful Patronus, which was much stronger than most. His parents were a factor in the graveyard. Sirius, again, drove him at the Department of Mysteries. Harry had experienced or thought of some kind of love during his major encounters. Perhaps that was it, after all?

However, that line of theory quickly hit a brick wall. He had no way to harness that. He couldn't stand there and think of love, a concept he barely grasped and knew, while fighting Voldemort. He'd been dead before he knew it. The topic was abandoned, though not forgotten.

Padma was supportive the entire time. She reeled her own shock and fear, and focused directly on absorbing every possible detail. If anyone were to miss nothing, it was her.

The day was a reality shock for most of the remainder of the group. Ernie and Katie often looked ill and afraid, and Harry began to worry more about them. Were they up to this? They appeared to be the most reluctant people there by the end of Harry's second year. An eye would need to be kept on them. Not everyone was cut out for this, after all, and Harry would be lying if he said he was surprised to see someone having second thoughts.

Having known a lot of the stories second hand already, and having participated in the last years' raid on the Department of Mysteries, Neville coped well. More than once he conveyed his determination to stand by him. The sight of Bellatrix had nearly caused a scene, but he mastered himself. Harry was grateful for the support from someone who was rapidly becoming a closer friend.

Who surprised Harry the most, however, was Su. She stood beside him for a lot of the day, and even held his hand a few times, particularly during the later memories. She squeezed his hand during some intense moments, and he responded in kind. A sort of small companionship emerged in those moments.

Luna was... well, she was Luna. Her constant wide-eyed expression belied the real reactions; however, she remained quiet the entire day except to offer her continued support, and a hug, at the end. Finally, Susan and Hannah often had the greatest reactions. The first sight of Voldemort, in his spirit form in Harry's first year, elicited a muffled scream. They held each other comfort when Harry nearly died, nearly lost Sirius and when he actually did. They readily offered their sympathy for the rough time Harry had had. He accepted it awkwardly, unused to it.

Harry understood that there was an immense amount of information to take in today, and told everyone to take the time to think. Now that they knew more what life was like, what they were getting into and what Harry wanted, decisions had to be made. These decisions needed to be made properly, and not on the spur of the moment.

But there was one other person left, who had been largely impossible to read, sans some moments of sympathy. Fleur.

Fleur was lying down on a burgundy chair that resembled one you would find in a therapist's office. Harry could only fathom what was going on in her mind.

The blonde was rubbing her temples, trying desperately to digest all she had learned this day. As Harry had thought, her opinions on various matters were certainly changing. Most especially were the Order of the Phoenix and the British Ministry of Magic. The former had kept Harry in the dark for so long, and according to Harry, never lifted a finger to help him over the summers he had to endure with the Dursleys. The latter simply failed to be fair, just and abide by their own laws, at the very least in the Fudge government. Scrimgeour was still too new to tell.

"I don't know 'ow you do it," Fleur sighed tiredly. Harry glanced at her questioningly.

"Continue onwards, zat is," the woman elaborated further in response to Harry's unspoken question.

Harry sat down on a couch a few meters to her right and faced her. "I have to," he replied. "You heard that prophecy. I have to persevere."

Fleur shook her head while still lying down, eyes closed. "Before zat," she elaborated. "Zat is only an explanation for why you continue now."

For a long moment he was silent.

"I think I knew it somewhere deep down." Harry replied quietly. "That it would come to something like this, that it wouldn't end unless I put a stop to it. Voldemort started it, now I have to end it."

There wasn't a response. Tension filled the air. This conversation had been coming for some time, ever since Harry had left France. Try as they could to stall it, today was the day it was all going to come out.

It was Fleur that broke the silence.

"'Arry, I'm so sorry for using you like zat," Fleur said, sitting up and looking at the forever younger man before her. Harry met her gaze, his confusion evident in his expression.

"For using me?" Harry repeated blankly. That wasn't quite what he was expecting when he had pictured this conversation, over and over and over again.

"Oui," replied Fleur dejectedly. "I 'ave been 'aving doubts about Bill and myself over ze last several months."

"Doubts?"

Fleur shook her head solemnly. "Bill is a wonderful man. 'owever, I am uncertain he iz ze one. These doubts manifested zemselves the strongest zey had been when you were staying wiz me. I did not intend to lead you on or anyzing."

Harry's heart sank. On one level, Harry was not remotely surprised at the rejection he was hearing. He and Fleur had only been together in his most unrealistic fantasies which were just that: unrealistic. But on another level, he hadn't accepted this turn of events. He was backpedalling, trying to grasp reasons why. He was in over his head.

More than once Harry opened his mouth to protest, to say something, anything to understand her. Her blue eyes, once so filled with happiness, contentment and mischievousness, were now staring at him coldly, cruelly, as if mocking him for holding any hope that he would be put first.

Irrationality rose within him like a beast, a mixture of anger at her rejection and self-pity, for the same reason he believed her to be mocking him. Self control started to slip.

Seconds passed, but this time Harry resisted saying anything he knew he'd regret later. Arguing like a jealous, selfish boy would only push home the point that he was just that, a boy. He was too young, too skinny, and too different from Bill to be of any real contention or competition for Fleur's attentions or affections.

A powerful wave of displeasure rose within him. Bill became the focus of the new myriad of emotion.

But then it stopped, and Harry calmed. He would handle this maturely with Fleur. He would not break down, cry and beg desperate pleas for a second chance. He would not swear revenge against Bill and become a being of hatred.

Harry would honour his promise to himself as much as he could. Fleur had made her choice; he had to accept it. That would be the mature thing to do… right?

"I don't think you led me on, Fleur," Harry replied sincerely, yet unable to maintain eye contact with her any longer. "And it's okay. I know you love Bill Weasley. I expected as much from this."

He leaned back into his chair a bit and looked to the ceiling, nudging his glasses to the side and rubbing his eyes. To his shame, there was wetness there that he had not noticed. It might not have hit his mind yet how much this hurt, the rejection, no matter how rationality tried to console him.

"I contemplated writing often since I left," said Harry. "But what could I have said? Asking how you were seemed inadequate."

Fleur could only smile wistfully at that remark. "I thought ze same zing." She grew a bit more solemn. "I honestly wasn't looking forward to today, regardless of what I 'ad said when you left. Zis conversation was somezing I doubt I would ever be ready for."

_Nor me it seems…_

"So where are we now?" Harry asked with trepidation. Now that he and Fleur had spent time together, he had come to enjoy her presence, platonically or otherwise. She was intelligent, graceful, eloquent, yet occasionally mischievous. There was a definite superiority complex, perhaps inevitable as a Veela, and a matching attitude would meet those she felt inferior to her. However, she had readily changed her treatment and opinion of him after he had proven to be not just a boy.

Even if they had no kissed… felt her against him, he still would have, and in fact did, greatly enjoyed his time in France. Yet, despite all that rationale, it still hurt, and hurt badly.

Fleur was wondering similar things.

The last few weeks had been challenging. After Harry had left, Fleur had retreated to her room and laid there for hours, contemplating what the last three days had brought. Her entire future was now in question, and yet only part of her regretted her actions.

She wondered what to tell Bill, or whether to never speak of it to him at all. But no, she had decided that she could not do that to him. Bill was a strong, commanding man. He had confidence in himself and in his abilities. She cared for him. At least that fact was undeniable.

But was it enough?

In the face of the first real temptation, she had failed to resist. She hadn't wanted to, at the time. But her guilt had continued to eat away at her. She had reached no conclusions that evening.

The following day she had woken up just as confused as he had the previous morning. After a rather long shower, where she tried to wash away her problems, she had gone into Gringotts, apologized for having two unexpected days off, which her supervisor had, thankfully, accepted without preamble. The Goblin was fully aware of the attack outside the premises and did not think any less for Fleur skipping two days of work as long as she caught back up.

Bill was a little less forgiving. He had been worried; understandably _very_ worried when she hadn't turned up on either Monday or Tuesday without an owl or any other warning. Apparently he had tried to send an owl to visit her on Sunday afternoon, after returning from an out of town conference. Fleur had never received the message, and Bill was hesitant to believe her.

Her doubts piled up over the next day, and she finally decided on a course of action: none. She couldn't tell Bill, not yet, not until she was surer of herself in these matters. How could she honestly answer any questions about her relationship with Harry when she knew not the answers herself?

The following fortnight had been rocky. Bill was distant, and Fleur had been increasingly so in response. However, almost when Fleur was beginning to believe they would not recover, Bill had then surprised her with a night out. Dinner was at an expensive restaurant in London. He had expressed his apologies for not respecting her privacy and his desire to rectify their relationship.

Her guilt magnified that evening, but she couldn't bring herself to hurt Bill that night, not while he was so positive and cheerful. The night had ended with a walk along the Thames, and their conversation had been light and enjoyable. It had been a wonderful night.

That night was largely responsible for her decision here. Bill, she loved. She knew he loved her. She couldn't let that die simply because of a few doubts. Not until she'd given it a real shot and knew for certain that there was no way they could work.

Fleur had yet to speak to Bill about Harry. She knew it had to be soon. However, her courage faltered every time she prepared herself to speak to him. More than once her frustration – at herself, at Bill, at Harry, and at their situation – boiled over and Fleur was nearly brought to tears, but she mastered herself in time. She wasn't a child anymore. This was her problem, of her own making, and she would deal with it like an adult.

"We're friends, 'Arry," Fleur answered honestly, and a little wistfully, though neither registered that in her voice. "That's all."

Harry's stomach seemed to drop. Even though he had expected it, had no reasonable expectations otherwise, it was still a shock, a disappointment, to hear that finality, that there was nothing more to it than friendship. For a split second, he felt himself frown. He quickly smiled, albeit a bit forced, to cover it up. "I hope you and Bill have a wonderful life together. God knows there needs to be more happiness in the world."

He wasn't sure whether Fleur noticed or not. He hoped she hadn't. The woman before him had enough to deal with without feeling sorry for disappointing him.

His promise to go along with whatever choice Fleur made came into effect. He sincerely wished them luck. They deserved to be happy. Happiness was rare in the wizarding world at present. Even a small amount more love could bring hope to others. Perhaps one day, even he would experience it firsthand. But no, not yet, not today, not for him.

Fleur didn't answer. Her heart went out to Harry, but she ignored it as best she could. It wasn't easy. She'd promised herself not to hurt him, to help give him happy memories, and now she'd hurt him more than probably anymore else had.

Fleur nodded slightly. "I should be going," she announced. "I 'ave … zings to do …"

In truth, she had to put distance between herself and Harry. The next time they saw each other, maybe then the two of them would be able to have the same level as comfort, of closeness as they had before the end of his stay in France. For now, it was too hard to be in the same room, let alone being in a room without anyone else around. She had only survived the day to this point by focusing on what she was learning and searching for someone else to take her spot in Harry's heart. There was no such luxury anymore.

"Of course," Harry replied immediately. He stood stiffly and, in the same manner, offered his hand. Fleur hesitated, grasped it and stood up. She turned her back to him, picked up the battered Invisibility Cloak and faced Harry again.

He seemed to have grown a bit again. Fleur was no Amazon, but she wasn't short at five foot eleven. Harry wasn't particularly tall, due to ten years and four summers of malnourishment. Right now, Harry was only just shorter than the older woman.

The two of them stared into each other's eyes for a moment, feeling uncomfortable and uncertain, yet unable to look away.

Memories flashed through Harry's eyes, recalling a similar situation between the two of them in Fleur's garden in France. However, there was something different this time. They were no longer as comfortable with each other. Whatever closeness had been gained before or after they had kissed was gone. They weren't impersonal like they had been before the previous summer, nor were they reasonably close like they had been at the start of this adventure.

He felt small now, standing beside Fleur, shorter than her. It was another aspect that he felt was mocking him. The word irrational crossed his mind many times, only to be disregarded in favor of more irrepressible, dark thoughts. He kept his promise, though, and did not speak up, did not lash out, did nothing.

Similar thoughts then graced their minds. Did the other regret that night in France now that they had found out the fallout? Was it truly worth it, no matter how pleasurable, how happy they had been?

Neither of them had the answer to those questions.

The moment passed.

Fleur turned towards the door; Harry followed suit a moment later. A dozen steps and the two of them were at the door, awaiting the next move.

This time Harry made the first move.

"Thank you, Fleur," Harry spoke quietly. He was thanking her for the pensieve, the memories and those three nights in France. Even though he knew it was impossible for them to have anything, it didn't, and hadn't, stopped him from wishing it, wishing it more than he had realized.

"I'm sorry, 'Arry," Fleur repeated. She was apologizing for using him like she had, for not being able to follow through, for choosing Bill over him, and for him making her feel content, at peace like she had at night in France. She should've slept on the floor.

With an almost silent ruffle, Fleur donned the Cloak. Harry didn't even look to see her disappear. Fleur, under the cover of the Cloak, couldn't bring herself to look at the sure to be sullen expression on the young man's face. He had had so much misfortune in his life and she was adding to it.

Harry heard footsteps, and then the door opened. He stared at the door, unseeing.

Fleur hesitated, wanting to say something to make him feel better, to offer him hope, but nothing came to mind. With a quiet click, she closed to door and left Harry alone in the Room of Requirement.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was waiting for Harry to return to the common room after talking with Fleur. She was one of the few who seemed to have noticed that neither of them exited after the rest. Not that they would've been able to see Fleur under the Cloak.

When she had arrived back in the common room, it had been shortly after eight. Every time the portrait hole opened, Hermione's head shot away from her homework to check if it was Harry or not. Each time she was disappointed, even sending a few unlucky Gryffindors glares as she grew more and more impatient and worried later into the night.

Lavender and Parvati both were watching their roommate jump and then glare at whoever entered the common room. It wasn't difficult to determine who she was waiting for. The two fashion queens of Gryffindor weren't even the only ones noticing and watching. Three fourth years were whispering in a corner, occasionally sending glances in Hermione's direction, especially when a new person came in.

Whether they knew it or not, Harry and Hermione were the unofficial most important two Gryffindors in the tower. Harry was Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived and what seemed to be the young man destined to save the wizarding world from Voldemort, if the _Daily Prophet_ was even remotely accurate. He was central to almost everything strange that had happened over the past five years. Even without the new nickname, it seemed logical.

Hermione was the smartest Gryffindor in a great many years. Every year there were discussions regarding the brunette's intellect and why she wasn't in Ravenclaw. Nobody truly knew the answer.

Over the years, each year had taken an interest into the relationships between Harry, Ron and Hermione. Off the radar betting had even occurred during Harry's fourth year to determine who Harry would end up with until Hannah Abbot had exposed it at the start of their fifth year as her first act as prefect. Now that there was no Ron in the picture, it would evidently be thought that Harry and Hermione would end up together.

However, the fashion queens were not the only two to notice Harry's growing friendship with Susan and Hannah of Hufflepuff and Padma of Ravenclaw, much to Parvati's displeasure. What was stranger still was the declining friendship between Harry and Hermione. Dean had said it. Nobody liked to talk about the war and such matters, but everyone was well aware of it. In much the same way, everyone was aware of the growing distance between Harry and Hermione.

One might've argued that it was Ron's actions that tore them apart. Those that did were quickly quieted, for the Gryffindors had noticed that this had started soon after the beginning of the year, well before Ron had attempted to … do whatever to Hermione.

It was just before ten p.m. when Harry finally came through the portrait hole. Hermione looked up from her work, a glare already on her face. The glare disappeared as soon as Hermione realized it was finally Harry.

The young man in question didn't seem to notice Hermione at all, nor anyone else. Lavender, Parvati and the three fourth years noticed that Harry didn't seem to be focused on his surroundings at all. It was as if he was just going through the motions without any real awareness or focus.

Hermione was about to ask what Fleur wanted when she noticed Harry's condition as well. She remained silent as Harry walked straight past her and up the stairs to his dorm. By the time he had reached the door, most of the common room was watching him.

For a minute, there was no noise from the Gryffindors. There were no whisperings or mutterings, merely confused glances. The tide then broke, some returning to their conversations, some pondering Harry's behaviour and others resuming their work uncaring.

Hermione packed up her belongings, waved her wand to send them to her room and followed Harry upstairs. Again, Lavender, Parvati and the three fourth years watched Hermione until she disappeared from sight, all thinking the same thing.

What had happened to put Harry into such a depressing mood?

Harry slumped onto his bed, on his back, emotionally exhausted. It had been a very long day, one with some events he wished hadn't happened, some he had expected and a few surprises here and there.

The darkness of the night pressed in on the Gryffindor Tower. The sounds of the night were subdued – perhaps only to Harry, however. He repeatedly told himself to honor his promise, his promise to accept Fleur's decision. He repeatedly told himself that it could never have happened anyway. He repeatedly reminded himself that Fleur was engaged already, with a man she had loved. She had explained why she had done what they had done. In a way it was a comfort, and in others it wasn't at all.

A few minutes later, he finally realized he wasn't alone in his room. Hermione was standing a few meters away, watching him quietly, patiently, worriedly. He watched her for a moment, weighing up options silently, absently, before he shuffled over, creating more room on the bed. Hermione took the silent offer and sat down beside him.

She knew Harry well. She knew something bad had happened between him and Fleur – it was hard not to see now, if she hadn't suspected it when he had returned from France – but what was it? What could have happened between the two of them to cause Harry to become so despondent?

Hermione laid a hand on Harry's head, running her fingers through his hair. Lying on his back again, Harry sighed. For the next hour, Hermione sat beside Harry, occasionally repeating the motion, before the male finally fell asleep, without a sound uttered. Not a word had been spoken between them.

Deeply troubled by his attitude, Hermione waited a little longer, to make sure he was asleep, before removing his robes, shoes and socks, closing the curtains and leaving him to sleep.

She whispered thanks for giving them time alone to Neville, Dean, Seamus and Ron who had all witnessed his arrival and Hermione going after him.

The female dorms were equally subdued, something very rare when living with Lavender and Parvati. Hermione shook her head at their unasked questions. She had no idea why he was acting like that.

Hopefully, it was only temporary.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Over the next two days, Harry was flooded with questions about what was wrong with him. Hermione, despite her reticence to communicate with him the previous evening, was especially persistent. He knew deep down that she did it because she cared, but for some periods of time he found that fact difficult to remember. Long periods. Often he only remembered just in time to not snap at her.

When Hermione had come in to his dorm room the night of the breakup, he was too tired to let his inexplicable animosity towards his best friend get in the way of peace. He simply let Hermione sit by him. In the end, Harry was glad he hadn't fought with Hermione. It was comforting to have someone there who cared for him, even platonically like Hermione. He thought about Fleur and little else before he had finally drifted off, succumbing to the dreams that gave him solace.

When he woke, Harry was alone, minus his shoes, socks and robes. He figured Hermione had taken them off after he had fallen asleep.

Strangely, he felt considerably better. Harry couldn't tell if it was because he had accepted what had happened the previous night already or if his mind had unconsciously pushed it away, not letting with his conscious mind deal with it.

Harry found he didn't care. He didn't really want to spend his time wallowing over something he knew would never happen.

Ginny helped, in that regard. She took him aside after breakfast on Sunday and spoke to him. The contents of the conversation were a blur. Harry only remembered her presence, the pleasure of her touch, and her wonderful smile.

The fourth day after the breakup, Hermione stepped forward and questioned him about Ginny, of all the things. She was in his mind more often than he would have thought had he not been grateful for the distraction. He questioned the thoughts once… but could not recall the instance clearly at all, as if it were merely a dream he had had and the climax had slipped through his fingers when he gave the matter attention.

Despite the assistance of Hermione and Ginny, Fleur remained in distant thought, bringing him down every now and then. Surprisingly, Daphne requested a conversation in private through a message delivered by a Ravenclaw first year she had intimidated. The poor girl had been quivering as she delivered the message. Had Harry not know her, or not grown a backbone over the past two years, he probably would've been intimidated by Daphne too.

It was mid-afternoon, after a Herbology class, when Harry found himself locked in a classroom with Daphne, alone, again.

"What do you want, Daphne?" Harry asked bluntly, not in the mood to play games with her

Daphne narrowed her eyes at him. Harry sighed. His tone _had_ been less than welcoming.

"You wanted to know about Malfoy didn't you?" she asked impatiently.

His mind had been elsewhere for the past week, and thoughts of Malfoy had completely slipped. That was dangerous. He immediately resolved to sort himself out.

"Did you find out something?" Harry asked slightly more interested and welcoming. He leaned his hands on a table behind him, crossing his right leg over his left ankle.

"First things first," Daphne mock scolded him, as if he was a young boy eagerly awaiting his birthday gifts. She threw the Extendable Ear into the air, caught it and stuffed it back in her robe. "It is not quite as easy to eavesdrop in a common room filled with arrogant pigs and backstabbing bitches."

"I love your language, Daphne. Makes you wonder why you're so unpopular." Harry said in blunt sarcasm. He received a generous scowl for his cheek. "Hermione supply you with these?"

"Indeed." Daphne said, ignoring the gibe. "On last Sunday, I overheard a conversation between Parkinson, Nott and Malfoy that involved the word 'Polyjuice'." Harry raised his head to face the young woman again.

"That explains what I've been seeing on the Marauder's Map." Harry replied. The Map had been introduced to the DA through the memories of Harry's third year. It had been an interesting revelation. "Crabbe and Goyle have been standing outside the Room of Requirement an awful lot, but when I walked passed once there was only a lost first year."

Harry grimaced. "I thought she was cute. Great, now I'll never trust children."

Daphne scowled. "Way to steal my thunder, Potter. At any rate, yesterday, I overheard a second conversation with Nott and Malfoy. This one I heard in more detail. Nott was telling Malfoy how stupid his idea to use the necklace was." At this, Harry _really_ became interested. Daphne couldn't help but smirk.

"Malfoy replied that he wasn't given much choice. His project wasn't going well and a certain someone was going to kill his father if he didn't succeed soon."

Harry stared, wide-eyed for a long time. "So Voldemort is forcing Malfoy to do this through threats on his father's life?" Harry surmised. He was very tempted to say _'serves him right for following Voldemort'_. Fortunately, perhaps to his conscience, Harry refrained from saying that aloud.

"Looks like," Daphne confirmed distractedly. Malfoy hadn't actually told her that when he had forced her into this pesky situation with Oaths and whatnot. His demeanor had completely changed over the past two months. On the Express, he was bragging about having a mission for the Dark Lord and how he was going to prove himself and earn the Dark Mark he'd been given. Now, Malfoy didn't talk much at all. His mission was clearly not going well.

"Thanks, Daphne," Harry said brightly. He turned his head downwards, deep in thought.

It wasn't much, but it was another piece of the puzzle. Soon enough, he would have enough to figure out what exactly was happening. It was only a matter of time. They could, and would, do this.

Daphne merely nodded. She made to leave, stopping at the door, turning back to Harry.

"Two things Potter." Daphne said. "First, I'm still in."

Harry raised an eyebrow. He'd forgotten he was waiting for people to respond. He knew Hermione was a given, and Neville too. Padma was likely, and Su would follow. But he'd completely forgotten in his depression.

"Second, whatever is bothering you, move the bloody hell on already," she said suddenly, surprising Harry. He looked up from the ground and looked at Daphne. She refused to meet his eye. "Things that will depress you do happen. All you can do is rise above it. Move on already, or I'll never hear the end of it from Bones and Abbott. Whatever you may believe, it is painful listening to the two of them blather on about you being depressed."

As suddenly as she had spoken, Daphne opened the door, walked outside and closed it, leaving a surprised Harry to think in the room by himself.

With a small smile, Harry thought, _I didn't know she cared._

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione continued to badger Harry about Ginny over the next couple days, and mention things he'd never heard of. Whatever was up with her was starting to get on his nerves, and the longer it went on, the more he wanted to yell at her. The urge was becoming harder and harder to resist.

Breakfast the Sunday on the weekend after the memories were viewed saw Tonks, of all people, at Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and Neville spotted her on their way to the Great Hall. Tonks, however, did not see them, and she appeared to be in a rush.

"She still looks depressed about something," Hermione remarked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Neville.

"Who does?" Neville asked while loading up his plate with his lunch for the day. He had stepped into the Great Hall a few minutes ahead of them.

"Tonks," Harry answered before doing the same.

"The Auror?" Neville asked, confirming.

"The very same," Harry replied while beginning to eat a sausage. He turned to Hermione. "I suppose you're referring to her choice in hair color? No more pink or purple instead only dark colors?"

Hermione nodded, taking a bite of her own salad lunch.

"We could ask," Harry suggested, placing his fork down and reaching for a drink.

"Ask who what?" a voice interrupted the three of them. Harry turned to see Ginny standing behind Neville. The second his eyes landed on her, Harry had to resist greeting the newcomer more warmly than was necessary. He winced; the desire to touch the young woman in front of him was surprisingly strong. Nobody else seemed to notice or be affected in the least.

"Tonks, why she's depressed," Hermione answered for the three of them, giving Ginny a wary look but otherwise showing no signs of the new addition. She turned to Harry and Neville for confirmation, only to notice a series of odd expressions on her best friend's face. "Are you alright?" she asked Harry.

Harry started, turned back around and muttered a quiet 'yeah'. Instantly the desire seemed to die down.

_What the name of Merlin was _that_? _Harry asked himself. It was not the first time, though the only one he could recall with clarity.

Neville saw Ginny give Harry a smile, a smile that looked rather predator like, before taking a seat on the other side of Hermione. Unnerved, Neville fervently kept an eye on Ginny for the rest of the meal.

From then on, Harry refused to look at the youngest and only female Weasley. Hermione sat between them, wondering what she was missing. Her mind ran through what she had just seen.

Harry had seen Ginny and started to look as if he was fighting with himself, judging by the expressions he made. As soon as he looked away, he seemed fine again. Now he was avoiding looking at her. Had something happened between them that she didn't know about?

Hermione thought about Ginny's actions so far this year. She thought about her own knowledge of the redhead and what Harry had told her when he had returned from wherever his hideaway was earlier in the year.

"_I'm still not sure whether she did give me a love potion or not but she's probably one step away from trying them on you."_

"_I know. I overheard three fourth years talking about it. Her current plan seems to be to snog everyone in sight so I notice she's a girl."_

'Oh!" Hermione exclaimed aloud. She had completely forgotten about that!

Beside her, Harry jumped mid-swallow at the sudden noise. He coughed a few times, received a few thumps on the back from Neville, swallowed and turned to Hermione, his face red from having trouble breathing.

"I hope you had a good reason for that," he stated half menacingly, still regaining his breath.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione replied in a rush. "I've got to go." And with that, Hermione stood, turned, stepped over the bench and walked off at a quick pace.

Harry, Neville and Ginny watched her walk off.

"Where's she going?" Neville asked.

"Library probably," Harry answered. "It's been awhile since she's done that. Oh, hang on," Harry added, seeing Hermione not turn to leave the hall, but, instead, turn down the Ravenclaw house table. She stopped in front of Padma and started talking to her, taking a seat a few seconds later.

"What are you all looking at?" asked an exasperated voice. Harry and Neville turned to see the new person. This time it was Parvati. She took the seat next to Ginny after Ginny shuffled into Hermione's old seat. Harry tensed and turned back to Hermione, who also had taken a seat, and Padma. He caught them glancing his way more than once.

_How odd._

"Hermione," Neville responded to Parvati's question. Parvati followed their gaze and saw her sister and Hermione seated together.

"Now why are _those_ two together?" she asked, placing emphasis on 'those', as if they were distasteful objects.

Harry shrugged. He was thinking about Padma's words about her sister. She fancied the Boy-Who-Lived for four years, until the Yule Ball and then supposedly stopped. Parvati didn't seem happy to see him at all when he returned from France. She and Ginny had become friends recently, which explained why they were seated together now. Padma had asked him to be nice to her, so he figured he'd give it a shot, her attitude aside.

"You've got me," Harry answered, turning to face the twin sister that didn't seem as fond of him. Instantly he regretted the motion. He had forgotten that Ginny was beside him. Immediately, he felt an urge, something within him begging him to touch the female in front of him. His hand jerked, moving on its own accord. Harry tried to resist as best he could. The result was a sudden movement with his left arm, knocking over his drink on the table.

The orange liquid streaming from his former glass of pumpkin juice flooded across the table. Several nearby people turned to see what had caused the small crash, saw the spilled drink and turned away, a few giving him odd looks. It was all the distraction Harry needed.

Turning away from Ginny with as much willpower as he could muster, he withdrew his wand, cast the Scouring Charm to clean up the mess and picked up his knocked over glass.

"Everything alright, Harry?" he heard Ginny ask sweetly. It was disturbingly musical to his ears.

"Yeah, "Harry replied in a surprisingly normal voice. Something was wrong; very, very wrong. Wasn't it just weeks ago when this same girl, whose voice sounded beautiful to his ears, had yelled at him for sitting and talking with another girl? Wasn't it just weeks ago when he had felt nothing towards this girl, nothing whatsoever? Wasn't it just one week ago when he was pining after a French quarter-Veela and not the short, petite redhead younger sister of a former best friend?

This wasn't right. Absolutely one hundred percent completely not right.

Had Hermione noticed that too?

The questions about Ginny… Merlin, she knew, she'd realized it.

Warily, Harry glanced over towards Hermione and Padma and surprisingly met their gaze. He moved his eyes to the side, ever so slightly, in Ginny's direction. Padma seemed to notice the movement even from their distance.

Internally, Harry warred with the desire to stay beside Ginny and the desire to get the hell away. Barely, and just barely, the desire to move won out.

Harry took one last bite of a barely eaten meal, stood, avoided Ginny or Parvati's gaze and made his way quickly to Hermione and Padma. He could feel Ginny's eyes on him, watching him walk towards to Hermione.

The brunette in question was still deeply involved in a whispered conversation with Padma and hadn't noticed Tonks' rather loud entrance. He placed a hand on Hermione and leaned in close to join in the whispers.

Hermione jumped at the sudden contact. Recognizing Harry after her sharp turn, she sent him a worried expression. Hermione was about to speak when Harry interrupted her.

"Something is wrong with me, and I think Ginny's behind it."

Hermione and Padma shared a look, and then Hermione faced Harry and looked him in the eyes.

"I know."

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: Yes, Harry's very much all over the place in this chapter. That's the intention. The edit may also have made this a little less coherent, as, admittedly, this chapter was rushed to completion. However, I believe it covers everything that was necessary. Before, I had a much longer scene detailing the reactions and conversations about the memories; however, while it did offer some interesting character moments, it was largely filler. Thus, the abbreviated version that now exists.


	13. Until You Love Me

A/N: Song title comes from the dance/trance group '4 Strings'.

Thanks to chem prof for his beta-work and helping with the ending in particular.

_**Chapter 13**__**: Until You Love Me**_

A resounding crash echoed within an unused classroom, the sole occupant the cause and only audience. Harry, frustrated, had passed judgment on the unfortunate table and had then knocked it aside in a minor fit of anger.

The sounds of deep breathing followed as Harry attempted to calm himself. Something was wrong, so very, very wrong with him. Whatever was affecting him, it was growing stronger, becoming harder to resist, and he was frustrated to the point of knocking over a table. Well, past it.

There had been several signs, the most prominent being his subtle but nevertheless present interest in Ginny. He'd barely given thought to her beyond their distant friendship and that she was Ron's sister until several weeks ago. He could have naturally begun to notice her, like he'd done with Cho in his third year, except her confusing and hostile actions towards Padma and himself were baffling, and made it inexplicable for him to become more interested in her.

Then there were the equally inexplicable distrust for Hermione and their friendship. When people grew up, sometimes they grew apart. Harry wasn't unaware of that. However, she'd done nothing to deserve any of the dislike and distrust. Something wasn't definitely wrong.

Harry's frustrations were only mildly abated after he knocked the table aside. Violence really didn't help that much, at least when directed at an inanimate object.

The teenager sighed deeply. With a small amount of effort he righted the table and returned it to where it was before. Hermione had left a few minutes before with Padma to discuss things privately, leaving Harry in an unused classroom she had chosen after their conversation in the Great Hall.

Taking slow, deep breaths, like he had heard helped calm people down, he leaned against the upright table and closed his eyes.

Magic…

There were all different types of magic in the world. There were magics of destruction, of healing, of defense and offense, of alteration and reparation, of darkness and light…of love and of lust.

Had Ginny really done something to him? Those three Gryffindor girls he had overheard all those weeks ago seemed to think she was capable. After seeing a glimpse of a jealous, possessive Ginny when she confronted him and Padma, Harry wasn't as quick to defend her as he would've been three months ago. The situation had changed, and he was playing catch up.

She wanted him and she did not appreciate the appearance of other contenders.

Was there any other explanation? Who had the most to gain from destroying his and Hermione's friendship? Who had the most to gain by Harry falling in love with Ginny?

Then there were Hermione's dreams. According to her, her memory was still incomplete and appearing less and less often now. What did that mean? What did any of it mean? Was Hermione right when she said that Mrs. Weasley might have had some involvement in her and Ron, and now Ginny and himself? Mrs. Weasley had used a love potion to gain the attention of Mr. Weasley back when they were in Hogwarts. What if in some twisted, sick way, Ginny thought that would work with him? If Ron hadn't gone ballistic like he had, would he and Hermione still be together? Then they really would all be a family.

Harry stared down at the table. After the knock to the ground one edge had lost a small piece of timber. The chip was on the ground several meters away. The Gryffindor stood watching it for a solid minute.

How could she do something like that to him? And what exactly had she done to him?

He could almost feel whatever it was fighting to control him. Was it like the Imperius Curse? Could it completely overcome his thought process? Make him do whatever the caster, brewer, whoever wanted? Would he become a willing slave to the magic affecting?

The consequences, if that came to pass, were boggling. He'd be useless against Voldemort when he next came for him. He'd be slaughtered in a duel while thinking of how wonderful Ginny's hair looked the last time they were together.

_I'd like to think I'm more capable than that. _He grimaced.

Then there was Hermione. His attitude towards her all year … his sometimes less than welcoming personality towards her during moments alone, the way he could sometimes control it and others it would slip out, unintentional yet honest, at the time at least … the way he slowly at first, then quickly in the last couple of days, concentrated on the redhead when she was in the room or even during Quidditch practice … the feeling of wanting to sweep the girl up and take her with him to his room … and so many other thoughts and images ...

There were more, Harry knew, but his mind lost focus on finding those signs. The redhead in question filled his thoughts, enveloping his mind in a soft, yet omniscient light, making him forget all the revelations he'd just had.

Harry leaned down onto the table, gripping the edges tightly in his hands. Clenching his eyes to remain shut, the teenager attempted to eradicate Ginny from his mind, to maintain the little clarity of thought he maintained, for who knew what would happen if he lost to the magic.

It wasn't working.

There was a knock on the door which Harry ignored, concerning himself with resisting whatever was affecting him. If it was Hermione at the door, she would enter. If it wasn't…well, who'd be knocking on a door to an unused room unless they knew someone was in there?

Eyes still closed, Harry heard the door open and close a moment later. Two sets of feet crossed the floor, one moving to the front of the room and another to where Harry was, near the middle, hands white from his grip on the table edge

"Are you alright Harry?" Padma asked softly, a hand gently landing on his shoulder.

Harry sucked in a breath. Even without the hand or words he could sense she was very close. The table he was gripping moved a little, signalling to Harry that Padma had leant her other hand, and most of her weight, on the table. Adding to that was the near silent sound of her breathing just centimetres away from his ears.

_Tell her to sod__ off._

The Gryffindor clenched his eyes closed further, furiously trying to resist the loss of understanding. That other part of him, the one that wanted to ravish Ginny Weasley, was pounding at his insides, ordering him to speak out against the young woman's proximity.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Padma asked uncertainly. She saw his tightly clenched eyes and hands, gripping the table tightly. Had she done something wrong? Or was this what Hermione had feared come to pass?

The dark skinned Ravenclaw looked back to Hermione who was studying Harry intently. The abnormally intelligent Gryffindor drew her attention away from Harry to meet Padma's eyes. If they needed any confirmation at all to their thoughts, this was it.

"Can you not stand so close, Padma?" Harry asked quietly, still not opening his eyes, struggling not to let go off the table and push her away.

If looking at Ginny caused radical upsurges in his 'feelings' towards her, and looking at Hermione caused radical upsurges in his distrust and dislike towards her, then keeping his eyes closed would be a far simpler way of finishing this conversation quickly and, relatively, safely.

Whatever was affecting him was definitely worsening. He wasn't looking at Padma, yet her presence alone was riling him up let alone her hand on his shoulder.

Slow, deep breaths…

Slow, deep breaths…

Slow, deep breaths…

Padma slowly removed her hand from the male's shoulder, examining Harry's face intensely. Her weight on the table disappeared a moment later. She watched him as she walked across the room to stand by Hermione. The two women exchanged worried expressions.

"Sorry," he apologized as sincerely as he could manage in his condition. He wanted to at least maintain one friendship if he could from this mess.

"It's not your fault, Harry," Padma consoled him as best she could from a distance. "We think we might know something about what's causing this."

Harry barely reacted. Honestly, he was too focused on how ashamed with himself he was. Losing Sirius was painful and had changed him, resolved him to work harder so nobody else close to him would have to lose their lives. He'd concentrated almost entirely on his school work and the DA, with the only lengthy exception being the trip to France and Fleur, and not enough of the menial matters. At least they were menial in his mind at the time. He should've noticed how he was treating Hermione and fought against it earlier. He should've paid Ginny more heed, seen how she was acting and how rapid his thoughts had altered for no reason. The thought that magic was fabricating emotions escaped him as he criticized himself – a distraction, if a negative one.

More than once he and Hermione had argued over simple matters, matters that, even three months ago, would be considered trivial between them. Deep down inside, he knew it was not his fault. There was little he could've done differently.

Even so, his mind discarded these facts. His actions weren't those of a true friend. Even if he was under magical influence, which remained to be confirmed, though seemed the only conclusion, Harry hated himself for letting their friendship deteriorate without any effort from his side to bridge the gaps, magical influence or not. Hermione meant far more to him than that.

If Harry had been able to look at her without any of the feelings of distrust and dislike, he wouldn't have looked her in the eye. He couldn't. He didn't deserve to.

"How about we just talk and you listen until we ask questions, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry nodded absently, still facing away, hands and eyes clenched shut.

Padma leaned back against the wall and looked towards Hermione, who, in return, sent a questioning look back. The dark skinned girl jerked her head in Harry's direction. It was Hermione's story to tell.

Hermione got the message and faced Harry's back, sending a worried glance at his hands, seeing how tightly he was holding on to the table. Taking a deep breath, she started on what she thought was the truth.

"I do believe that someone – Ginny - has either enchanted you or spiked your food and or drink." Hermione said quickly, hoping to get it out in the open as soon as possible now that she'd started.

Harry said nothing.

"I noticed for the first time today that it truly is her," she continued, half ashamed at the admission she hadn't noticed it before. This had been her plan to wait, to not seek professional help. Harry had expressed his doubts, even she had mentioned her own, yet still she had followed through. It hadn't been a smart choice.

"I didn't want to believe that Ginny would do that to you … Whenever you look at Ginny, you feel some sort of desire to, or an influx of thought, complimenting her in some manner. Am I right?" She did not wait for a response, knowing she was correct already.

"At first it would've been barely noticeable, subtle. As time went on, like what I'm assuming happened at lunch, the desire has increased exponentially. You want to either kiss her or…more, so to speak."

Had this not been such a serious situation, Harry and Padma might've found Hermione's reluctance to say 'sex' amusing. She often avoided the more adult terms, especially in regards to cursing. This, however, wasn't the time.

"That's not all," Hermione went on after taking a deep breath. "Judging from your actions presently and throughout the year, you've…you've…you've also been having a rather large amount of negative thoughts towards me, right?"

Harry, through all the haze of distrust and near hatred, was able to detect the trace of faint trace of hope in Hermione's voice.

It nearly broke his heart.

Hermione was worried, struggling to maintain their connection as friends. Through everything else in their lives, she was aware of the growing distance, but had tried her utmost to appear as if nothing was the matter. More than once she'd said that she didn't know what would've happened to her if he never came into her life. Right now, she was placing all of her hope, all her belief into this one theory. If she was wrong and he wasn't magically affected at all and really could not stand her now…

He couldn't think about what Hermione would do.

Hermione started talking again, something about his mind becoming unfocused when he thought negatively about Ginny, that it became stronger as the weeks had passed.

Harry wasn't listening anymore.

Her words had ignited a ball of anger inside of Harry from the core of his being. The ball pulsated with every negative thought towards the redhead, and towards Hermione and Padma due to their proximity. Both sides were failing, losing control. He was just angry at his situation, the injustice of it all. Why could people not just leave him be?

His introspection served a useful purpose, however. He could sense it now; there was something inside of him, nudging him gentle sometimes, forceful at others. Hermione was right; at first it had been subtle, but now it was controlling, demanding. Whoever had cast the spell or spiked his meals must've grown tired of waiting and increased the potency of whatever was affecting him. And it was cumulating now.

The anger grew. It was anger against Hermione and it was Harry's own anger over Ginny. In his increasingly clouded mind he'd managed to shift his mind and convince himself it was Ginny's fault at great expense to his self control. The influenced and the unaffected parts of Harry were at war in his mind, two different types of anger arising inside of him, fighting for dominance, for control. He needed a release and he needed it now.

His hands unclenched slightly before tightening again.

Shock flowed through him. He'd forgotten the table. His grip had been so tight that his hands were near numb.

"Harry?" two female voices penetrated his inner turmoil. He ignored them.

Maintaining his tight grip on the table with one hand, Harry switched his grip with the other from on top to underneath the table. The other hand followed suit a moment later.

The two sides raged inside of him. Harry's mind willed the invader aside. It proved an endless, if not fruitless, task as he was slowly overridden with thoughts he had no real desire to think. He was losing control, and while he was well aware of it, he had no control whatsoever.

At last the dam broke.

The muscles in Harry's arms tightened, lifting the table off the ground and throwing it at the wall to his left. For a second time in ten minutes, there was a resounding crash in the abandoned room. This time the table suffered more than a single missing chip.

A leg had been completely torn off along with a large chunk of one corner. A second crash was heard not even a second after the first as the three pieces fell to the floor, the two broken pieces bouncing before lying still on the stone floor.

Hermione and Padma jumped at the crash, taken completely by surprise at the act of violence from Harry. Even in his angriest moment before now he'd never taken it out on anyone or anything through violence. Words had been his forte in his anger, unlike Ron earlier in the year.

Harry about faced and rounded on the two females with him.

"You're right, Hermione," Harry seethed through clenched teeth, locking gazes with her. Pure, undeterred, unadulterated anger was emanating from him. "You're right as always. I can't control this anymore!"

He closed his eyes, trying to resist the urges to strike out at his _friends_.

_No, Harry, they're not. They're against you, plotting to keep you away from _her.

He clenched his eyes tightly, fighting the impulses.

_Yes, they are. These two are my allies, friends, people that will help me. People that care._

Through great effort, Harry managed to stave off another release of anger and, at the same time, his mind from clouding again.

It would only be temporary, and he knew it.

All three of them were asking themselves the same question; where was this sudden upsurge in hatred coming from? They needed to know the source.

"How do we stop this?" Padma asked Hermione quickly. She couldn't bear to see this anymore. This wasn't the Harry either of them knew and cared about. There was no denying it to themselves anymore, no hiding, hoping, from the facts. Magic was at work here, powerful magic at that.

"I don't know," Hermione said shaking her warily; her eyes not leaving Harry's closed ones for a moment. "This is not a love potion, we ruled that out already. Those only cause an obsession, a desire towards a singular target, and although they do limit the attentions towards any others, this has been far too subtle to be one, not even including the massive amounts of hatred and anger expelling from him now."

"So what do I do?" Harry said through fiercely clenched teeth. His foot began to move on its own accord, the magic finally starting to win out against him. It wanted him to leave, to find _her_.

"Stick me to the ground, now!" Harry practically screamed at the two females.

Afraid, Padma fumbled with her wand for a few seconds before managing to point it at Harry's feet and casting a Sticking Charm. It wouldn't last if Harry was completely determined to move. By now she knew that Harry was easily an above average wizard. Padma kept her wand handy in case she needed to cast a Full Body Bind, though hoped it would never, ever come to that.

The unaffected side of Harry was momentarily satisfied. The affected side only grew angrier.

"Let me go," it muttered quietly. Harry wasn't struggling to get out of the spell but that didn't dumb down the intent behind his words one bit.

"Hermione," Padma said warily. Whatever this was, it was _strong_. Far stronger than they had imagined. "What can we do?"

"I don't know!" Hermione repeated.

"Let me go!" Harry repeated, much louder. The air crackled sharply, causing the two females to jump.

"What was that?" Padma asked, watching Harry with a small trace of something she had not ever expected to feel around him; fear.

"I don't know!" Hermione said again. She started shaking her head, bushy hair flailing everywhere. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Harry! I'm sorry I didn't notice it was her until today! I don't know how to fix this…"

Tears began welling up in her eyes. Why couldn't she have noticed this sooner? Why couldn't she have paid more attention to how he was acting around Ginny? Why couldn't she see through the redhead's façade? Why couldn't she have found the solution already? Why couldn't she –

Padma took a step towards Hermione, raised a hand and slapped her on her cheek.

Both other occupants of the room stopped moving and making noise. For several seconds, there was nothing to be heard inside the room.

Hermione stared at Padma, her shock and surprise preventing the pain from registering. A hand belatedly rose to her cheek to caress the tender skin. A sliver of pain managed to find its way through the shock.

Padma was in a similar state. Shock, undeniable shock at what she had just done, flowed through her as easily as blood. She had not meant for it to happen… it just did.

It took several moments for anyone to regain their composure.

"Hermione," Padma said softly. "We need to figure this out, and you panicking is not going to help any of us. What happened to you two this year? I've never heard of either of you panicking so strongly before. You two are on top of everything. Always."

Harry wasn't in a fit state to give a constructive answer to that question, and Hermione was slowly regaining her senses. Padma's question was left unanswered.

Everyone panicked; it was a fact of life. No matter how confident, how powerful one would be, there would forever be moments where even the best would falter, even just once. Harry and Hermione had now had theirs. It was Padma's sincere hope that it would be their last.

"Ginny's the one behind this, right?" continued Padma gently. "Let's go confront her and get the information out of her."

"You leave her alone!" Harry called out, his afflicted side regaining control.

The two females ignored him. "She won't tell us willingly." Hermione replied slowly. "If she resorted to magic, she has very little, if anything, to lose by being caught out."

Padma absorbed that piece of information and thought on it for a moment.

Within seconds a plan formulated in her mind.

"We let Harry bring her here," Padma said to Hermione quietly.

"Harry bring her here?" Hermione repeated in the same slow voice. "He hates us right now. There's no way he'd bring her here to help us."

"I'm right here you know," Harry called out, irritated at being ignored.

Again, his words were ignored.

Padma looked at him briefly. "Whatever she did to him … he can fight it sometimes. Right now it seems to have won out. If we could bring out his unaffected side again…we'll have his cooperation, even briefly."

"How?" Hermione asked the obvious question.

"Just calm down, Hermione," Padma said as soothingly as she could in their situation. "Calm down and help me think. We're not two of the smartest witches in the school for no reason."

That did seem to have the desired effect as Hermione sobered up within seconds.

The two of them turned to study Harry. Their male friend was still stuck on the floor, glaring darkly at the two of them. A pang of hurt ran through both their hearts at seeing their friend look at them that way with such dislike. The two of them told themselves that it wasn't him and pushed the hurt aside as best they could. They would repair their relationships _after_ everything else was fixed.

What could be done to temporarily reduce the effect of whatever was causing this?

Hermione tried a simple '_finite'_. Unsurprisingly that did nothing to help. All it did was temporarily free Harry from being stuck on the floor, which Padma quickly rectified.

Padma and Hermione tried the same thing together. Unsurprisingly that did nothing to help either, except to aggravate their captive further.

A few seconds of silence later, Hermione suddenly slapped her forehead.

"Of course!" she exclaimed.

Padma and Harry stared at her in surprise.

"_Accio wand,_" Hermione said confidently, pointing her wand at Harry. His wand sailed out of a pocket and directly into Hermione's left hand. Harry attempted to grab hold as it flew past, but reacted too slowly. The wand had been completely forgotten until that stage.

Turning to Padma, Hermione pocketed Harry's wand and pulled the Ravenclaw to the door. Removing the Locking Charm, Padma was pushed through the door with Hermione right behind her. The Gryffindor replaced the Locking Charm and faced Padma with a smile on her face.

"What's the trigger for the anger?" she asked excitedly.

"You… and to some extent me-oh," Padma answered, pausing as she realized what Hermione was getting at.

"Exactly," Hermione responded. "We just spent a fair bit of time with him and over the time the anger only increased, right? Therefore when we leave, it should abate. I'd say give him a few minutes and he'll be back to being our relatively normal Harry."

"And if it doesn't work?" Padma asked quietly.

The smile faltered. "We force Ginny up here ourselves if necessary."

Padma nodded, understanding that Hermione had thought this through. The dark skinned girl sighed, leaning into the wall. This was not something she'd ever had to deal with before. Love potions, spells or whatever this was, was not one of her usual reading topics.

For an instant she cursed herself for that. And an instant later she chastised herself for cursing herself. There was no way she could've known this was coming. She prided herself on being prepared. It came from a deeply imbedded desire within her. On most occasions, she was on top – perfect even – and rarely faltered. This was not one of those occasions.

Padma pushed away those thoughts. There was something else niggling on her mind, something far more important to her.

Recently she had noticed that Ginny had made a new friend. Her sister had been seen sitting next to, and chatting with, Ginny Weasley quite a bit over the past weeks.

It hurt her deeply to admit, but Padma had no alternative.

Parvati was somehow involved too.

The timing when they became friends was far too great to be a mere coincidence. Padma had never fully believed that her sister's crush on the Boy-Who-Lived was ever gone after the disastrous Yule Ball date. Harry had only danced a few dances at the start with her and sat down, ignoring her the rest of the night, staring intently at Cho and Cedric, and occasionally Hermione and Krum. It was plain to see to those paying attention who Harry had wanted to attend with. It was too convenient for her sister's desire to have dissolved completely after that.

Parvati's pride had been bruised that night by her date, the famous Harry Potter, spending much of his time wishing to be with someone else. Padma and Lavender had seen it in the following weeks. Her sister was depressed, uninterested in anything at all, including her beloved clothes, Divination and, perhaps most surprisingly, the numerous rumors of who hooked up and who screwed up at the Yule Ball.

Had that crush developed further, so much that she would jump at the opportunity to have him for herself, magical means or not? But how would that work out? Would Ginny share with Parvati?

That was unlikely.

Perhaps it was worse.

What if Parvati hated Harry for the Yule Ball? What if that hatred had developed into something that would aid a delusional Ginny Weasley into capturing Harry's heart through magic and effectively enslaving him?

That would be an interesting revenge, helping Ginny force Harry to be with someone who he didn't want to be. By spending the Yule Ball wishing to be with someone else and making Parvati be with someone who didn't want to be with her, Harry was now being forced to be with someone he didn't want to be with.

Padma kept those thoughts to herself. Her sister she would deal with on her own.

Hermione tapped Padma on the shoulder, nodding in the direction of the door.

Looking at her watch, Padma noticed that ten minutes had already passed. A muttered Unlocking Charm later and a Locking Charm later, the two females were back facing Harry. Already he looked much better, if not worse in some ways.

There was no anger left on his face, merely deep sorrow and regret. He was slouching deeply, eyes downcast and unfocused. He was the living essence of tiredness.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hermione, Padma," Harry said barely audible, still facing the floor.

"We can apologize to each other later, Harry," Padma said quickly. "We don't have much time."

Harry jerked his head up, staring into Padma's eyes as she met his. His gaze was penetrating. The emotions in his green eyes and the intensity were overwhelming. All mental barriers appeared to have ceased. As they lingered a little longer, it was as if he was able to see into her mind or soul. Her heart skipped a beat and a bead of sweat glistened down from her forehead.

"We need you to find Ginny and bring her here," Hermione explained, oblivious to the silent exchange. "Can you do that?"

Harry took a moment, but nodded his affirmative. "I pretty sure I can control myself long enough if she isn't that far off."

"Good," Padma said, shaking her mind clear from other thoughts. She withdrew her wand and waved it absently. Harry leaned forward suddenly, his feet no longer stuck to the floor.

"Thanks," he said calmly. Within a second he had the Marauder's Map out, the infamous Marauder words on his lips.

The parchment filled with ink quickly, mapping out the hallways, corridors, spare rooms, offices and dormitories. It took Harry fifteen seconds to find Ginny. She was just outside the door to the entrance of school standing with Parvati.

Padma, now looking over Harry's shoulder, saw her sister standing with their target. Her suspicions were only magnified by this sight. Ginny had to be aware, to some extent at least, of the state Harry was in and if she was still keeping company with Parvati… Her complexion paled, though not visibly with her dark skin.

Hermione grabbed onto Padma, pulling her away from Harry, shaking her head slightly. Padma understood her meaning very clearly. Keep as much distance between them and him as possible.

Seconds later, Harry packed up the Map, gave it to Hermione and nodded to the two females before walking out the door after Hermione removed the Locking Charm.

The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw females sighed deeply.

It was down to Harry. Even with their help, it was down to Harry and Harry alone, again.

With all their might, the two of them hoped and prayed Harry would overcome the temptations inside of him long enough to bring Ginny Weasley up two floors of Hogwarts.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry moved quickly, dodging around the majority of the Gryffindors as they returned to their common room after another satisfying lunch. Cursing them internally for their lack of problems, the raven haired teen pushed through a group of three females, who happened to be the three he had overheard weeks ago, muttering a quick apology and hurrying forward.

"Hiya, Harry," a very familiar voice called out.

Harry turned his head sharply to the left and saw Colin Creevey waving at him from the top of the first floor staircase to the second floor. The poor fifth year was left standing there very confused after Harry sent a scowl his way and moved on ahead.

Even when Harry didn't have a seemingly ticking time bomb inside of him, he did not particularly enjoy the camera obsessed Gryffindor's company. Still, he felt a little bit sorry for the fellow who had the unfortunate luck to try and talk to him at probably the worst point of his year.

Within thirty seconds Harry was down the final set of stairs and was walking briskly across the Entrance Hall heading straight for the door.

The sun was hidden by a multitude of clouds when Harry stepped out into the open. A soft breeze threatened to keep Harry preoccupied in the cool, but nice afternoon.

Disregarding the pleasant, albeit dark, outside world, Harry took the left most path out of the numerous before him.

It took him mere seconds to come across Ginny and Parvati. The two of them were seated on a picnic bench in front of the castle, encased between several trees along an avenue of them. This part of the garden was not far from where Harry and Ron had overheard Hagrid and Madam Maxime two years before.

The instant Harry laid eyes upon _her_, his mind went blank. For a second, the teenager was standing stock still, unable to grasp any coherent though. Then the blankness suddenly was replaced by massive amounts of memories, both real and fake, of Ginny Weasley.

Amongst them was the time Harry saved had saved her from the Basilisk and Ginny was holding him tightly. There was also the time that Ginny had accidentally stuck her elbow in butter at the Weasley house so long ago in such simpler times. Then there was a memory of Harry dancing with Ginny at the Yule Ball alongside Krum and Hermione, Cho and Cedric and Fleur and Davies.

Harry closed his eyes and willed the memories aside. He was here for a purpose, but what was it?

A 'memory' of Harry taking Ginny for walk outside the Great Hall on the night of the Yule Ball fluttered through his mind, distracting him.

_What…? No, that isn't how it went. Bloody hell, what was I here for?_

As quick as lightning, Harry had Ginny up against a wall. A light tinge of red covered the redhead's cheeks, her breath rapidly becoming harried and quick. Her eyes roamed Harry's face, searching, wanting.

_I was supposed to take someone somewhere, but who and where?_

His hands moved quickly, one to the hem of her dress and the other to her cheek.

_This didn't happen! This isn't real…_

His head moved closer, his own breath quickening at their close proximity. Their breaths could be felt on the others' faces, the warmth warming the skin, only to be chilled quickly by the cool, night air. Finally, Ginny leaned forward and closed the gap. For a long second, Harry and Ginny were locked together by their lips.

_This is her fantasy…what she wanted to have happen that night. What if…_

The 'memory' switched to another time. Ginny was lying on the floor, ankle broken and in visible pain. She was in the Planet Room at the Department of Mysteries.

…_I think of what really happened? Would that cancel out the effects?_

An unknown Death Eater appeared out of nowhere, wand in hand, a curse on his lips. Ginny's wand lay to her side, too far to be gotten in time to stave off whatever curse the Death Eater would use. An explosion caught both their attention. The Death Eater, his focus on one end of the room, failed to notice Harry sneak up behind and blast him with a Reductor Curse in the back. The Death Eater was knocked clean across the room, the sounds of bones cracking and breaking filling the air.

_Think, think, think… I was with Hermione and Neville. Dolohov nearly killed her. Neville had a broken nose._

Harry knelt down to check on Ginny. He noticed her ankle and tapped it with his wand. Instantly the bone was healed. Ginny, tears in her eyes, enveloped Harry in a tight hug.

Time switched forward.

It was later that night in a bedroom. Harry talking to Ginny about Sirius, how he failed to save him, how it was entirely his fault that he lost his Godfather.

_Neville carried Hermione and we met up with the other three in the room with all those doors._

_Smashing objects and then yelling at him. Dumbledore talking to me, telling me the prophecy._

Ginny leaning forward, grasping Harry's hand and pulling him back with her. Then Ginny closed her eyes and began drawing him in closer, their lips meeting.

_The prophecy… she doesn't know it so I didn't tell her about it in her fantasy… Voldemort… the DA revival… the twelve of us…_

Two robes flying through the air, discarded. Two shirts, a tie, two pairs of shoes and socks and a pair of pants followed suit. Harry was all too quickly in his underwear, lying on top of Ginny on the bed.

_Malfoy…Daphne and the Oaths…Hermione and our arguments… Padma… Susan… Hannah… Ernie, Daphne riling him up… Fleur…and France…Come on; come on… what was next?_

Ginny's own pair of pants laid there on the floor.

_Hermione __kidnapped, then her and Padma…what were we talking about? Damn…so close, I can feel it…_

Together, moving within the sheets...

_What was it? It had something to do with magic…Ginny…and what? Love potions or something… Wait! No, that's it!_

For the third time in thirty minutes, anger bubbled with Harry.

_She did this to me…did something to me… I'm supposed to bring her to Hermione and Padma…that's it! That's it, that's what I'm here to do!_

The anger escalated, tapping into the magic inside of him, like it had done years ago resulting in Aunt Marge being blown up, and releasing a burst of magic that flowed from Harry causing his mind to clear in an instant. The environment didn't change, but an invisible wave through the air, giving nearby students goosebumps. Harry, panting, felt all coherent and conscious thoughts returning to him within seconds. For a moment, Harry stood, disoriented, before shaking his head, refocusing.

He opened his eyes.

There she was. Ginny Weasley. She was staring right back at him, her hair flailing wildly in the wind. A tinge of desire arose within him again, but he was ready, prepared now to make this moment of clarity last and quashed it quickly.

Harry was back in full control, he didn't know how or why, but he had control. It was finally time to end this. Who knew how long his reprieve would last.

Harry closed the remaining distance between himself and Ginny. As he drew closer, Ginny and Parvati stopped talking as they noticed him approach.

"Harry!" Ginny said his name brightly. "What a nice surprise, what can I do for you?"

The affected side took the form of a beast and rattled against his cage, begging freedom to take this girl and throw her against the wall of the castle and start…

A moment later it was quieted again, nothing more than an unintelligible whisper on the wind.

"Can you come with me for a moment?" Harry said as brightly as he could manage. He let the beast loose for a millisecond to add a genuine smile to the façade.

Ginny looked at him questioningly at first, but then smiled back to his own. She turned to Parvati, whose eyes had focused entirely on Harry's face since the moment she saw him, exchanged a look. Harry saw a glint in Ginny's eyes as she turned back to him.

Harry offered his right hand, which Ginny took after a moment's hesitation.

"What do you want me for?" Ginny asked with her excitement barely concealed.

"What do you think?" Harry answered with an attempt at a disarming smile on his face. Ginny's eyes light up and moved closer to Harry as they entered the castle.

The urge, the temptations rose again with her smell filling his senses. The beast within Harry purred with delight while the other, not affected side of Harry, shuddered with revulsion. There was no remorse within her eyes. She knew exactly what she had done and had no regrets now she was getting what she wanted. The means did not matter to her, only the result.

Harry quickly climbed the stairs to the first floor, hoping his recent control over the beast would last long enough to get the girl to Hermione and Padma. Ginny followed a step behind, her eyes shining with delight.

Seconds later Harry hit the next set of stairs with Ginny practically running alongside him. A few passersby watched the two hurry past, full well noticing how odd that was, seeing Harry and Ginny together, alone, after their distance over the year to date.

The two passed Neville, who was stunned to see the two together. He watched Harry rush the upstairs, Ginny a step behind. That couldn't mean anything good. He needed to find Hermione.

The best within Harry raged against its cage at that line of thought, threatening to break free again. Harry could feel his control slipping slightly. He stumbled on the stairs in his haste. Regaining his balance a moment later, he sent a Ginny a sheepish look at her worried glance. He turned back to the stairs and looked up to the top, thanking Merlin at the sight of the door at the top of the stairs where they would be alone at last. The beast thrashed against the cage, his thoughts washed away for a moment, forgetting Hermione and Padma, before returning a second later. The door was meters away from Harry, who then directed Ginny towards it. He placed a hand on the doorknob, turned it and opened the door.

"After you," he said enthusiastically. The beast within him broke one of the bars.

Ginny smiled brilliantly at him and another bar broke. She took the offer and walked in ahead of him. Harry winced, his reprieve coming to a crashing halt as the desires arose within him once again. Whatever had happened to allow him the time to bring Ginny here was very nearly over. It had been a ten minute reprieve at best.

"You coming, Harry?" Ginny asked him after he didn't follow her inside immediately.

"Yep, sorry, just had a thought," he answered, following the Weasley inside. A third broke.

Harry followed Ginny through the doorway and closed the door behind him. Before he'd turned back to face her, Ginny jumped him, her tiny, but surprisingly strong hands pinning his to the wall.

"You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment, Harry," Ginny whispered in a breathy voice into his ear. The four, fifth and sixth bars broke.

"Hold on…" Harry said, looking about the room. It looked different somehow… Where were Hermione and Padma? Where was the table he'd taken his anger and frustration out on?

Harry looked around frantically for the two females who were to be his saviors. Then he saw it. The room layout was different. This one was completely devoid of any furniture and did not even look like a classroom.

_This is the wrong bloody room!_

"Ah, Ginny," Harry said tentatively. He was beginning to get very worried right now. At the same time he was beginning to get very excited.

"Yes?" she whispered, her lips centimetres from his ear. The seventh bar broke.

He couldn't think properly. Eyes closed, clenched tightly again, he tried to resist the thought of what Ginny would do. That was his mistake. Concentrating on what she wanted to do to him only managed to break the eighth, and final, bar.

Harry, not a strong person in general, used strength he didn't know he possessed, forcing Ginny off him. Surprised, she stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor. Harry reached out and grabbed her before she fell, lifted her back to her feet and pushed her back. Again surprised, Ginny stumbled backwards to find her back up against the far wall.

The Weasley girl looked at Harry, seeing nothing but pure lust in his eyes as he stared down at her like a predator did his prey. She felt her face grow hot, her heart skip a beat and another area tingle. Finally, after five long years since she met him, she was getting her moment with Harry Potter, her savoir, the man she loved.

Harry took a step forward, his walk filled with complete confidence.

"You want this, don't you?" Harry said uncaringly. "You want me to take you right here, right now."

Ginny, in her surprise at Harry's tone and words, was forced to nod in response without thinking about it.

Harry smirked dangerously. He closed the distance quickly, reaching out to touch her cheek with his hand. Ginny sighed into his touch, savouring it. A second hand trailed down her right arm, gradually moving downwards.

Harry leaned inwards to kiss the redhead on the lips and end this agony once and for all.

A loud burst from behind them stopped him his tracks. Harry and Ginny jumped at the sound and turned to see what had made the commotion.

"_Stupefy!_" two voices called out simultaneously. Unarmed and unprepared, Harry and Ginny respectively were hit dead on with the two spells.

Hermione and Padma lowered their wands.

"That was close." Padma remarked with a rise of an eyebrow. Harry and Ginny had slumped together, knocked heads and Harry was now laying facing away from Ginny while Ginny was facing his back. Even in unconsciousness Harry wanted nothing to do with her.

"Too close," Hermione concurred. "If Harry hadn't left the Marauder's Map with us…"

Padma was content to let Hermione trail off. She didn't like the thought any more than Hermione did.

Hermione set up the usual secrecy charms while Padma detestfully picked up Ginny's unconscious form with a Levitation Charm and used a Sticking Charm on her, leaving her suspended from the wall, her feet unable to reach the floor. She also divested the redhead of her wand, pocketing it.

"I hope being unconscious resets his mind," Padma said to Hermione, both standing over Harry's body. "I'd better stick him to the ground just in case." She added after a moment of silence.

A second Sticking Charm, and a murmured _'Rennervate'_ later, Harry was awake, blinking slowly. He tried to move, found he couldn't, and looked up at Hermione and Padma watching him closely.

"Hermione, Padma?" he asked confusedly, his gaze passing Ginny on the wall. He paused, a look of complete and utter horror crossing his face. "Please tell me you stopped me before I did anything?" he pleaded.

"We stopped you," Padma said kneeling down on his left. Hermione knelt down on his right.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked pointedly.

Harry looked around at himself, noticed Ginny a second time up against the wall and paled, looking away immediately. "Aside from not being able to get up on the ground, nearly snogging and doing so much more with _her_, I'm just peachy thanks Hermione, couldn't be better."

"That's definitely our Harry." Hermione nodded to Padma, a relieved smile on her face. Padma removed the Sticking Charm.

Harry got to his feet, Padma and Hermione one step behind.

"Keep your wands on me at all times," Harry ordered them, taking charge immediately, brushing out various creases on his robes and looking directly at Ginny. "I don't know how long I can stop it. If it looks like I'm losing control, stun me again."

The two women exchanged a dark look. Neither of them envied Ginny in the least.

"Wake her," Harry told them in a no-nonsense voice.

Padma cast the counter spell.

Ginny visibly slumped. For a moment she was completely still, the only signs of life the quiet noise of her breath. Her head rose slightly, looked around. She tried to move her arms and legs with no success.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking up. Her eyes lit up at Harry, before darkening at the sight of Hermione and Padma.

"Harry?" she said worriedly. "What's going on? Why am I stuck here?"

Harry didn't respond. He stared at her, his piercing gaze unnerving the young girl.

"What did you do?" Harry asked finally, his voice low and neutral. To those that knew him, that was a bad sign; his own version of Ron's telltale red tinged ears.

"What do you mean, 'what did you do'?" Ginny asked back, her voice nervous. She tried moving her limbs again to no avail.

"You know full well what you've done," Harry responded. "What was it? A love potion of some sort? A spell?"

Ginny didn't answer, staring back at Harry in shock.

"What did you do to me?" Harry said in a much louder, commanding voice, surprising all three others in the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ginny answered, looking away, not meeting his eyes.

"I know how good a liar you can be Ginevra Weasley," Harry practically growled. "Padma said your 'apology' was sincere, that's evidence enough of how good you can lie."

Ginny glanced at Padma, hatred in her eyes, before controlling herself and switching her gaze back to Harry. The redhead had no training controlling her emotions as her actions had just displayed. The fact that she was a Weasley, a wizarding family known to contain hot-headed and emotionally controlled children, made it even easier for Harry, Hermione and Padma to read straight through her now. When Ginny was calm, she was dynamite, someone you did not mess with. Once her emotions took control, she was vulnerable. It was right then that Harry truly understood why Dumbledore was so insistent on learning to control his emotions.

"Deny it all you want, Ginevra, but you aren't getting down from there until you admit and undo whatever you did."

Ginny stared at Harry. She had never heard him use her first name like that until a moment ago and now he was using it again. It had always been Ginny and never Ginevra.

The redhead began to panic. She was trapped, stuck against the wall in an unused room that was probably locked, with silencing charms all over it. There's no way screaming for help would work, and that would only anger Harry further.

She could see it in his eyes. It was the same look he'd given her when she accosted Padma and him in that corridor weeks ago. She'd followed Harry, to find out what he was doing down in Ravenclaw territory. Luna's appearance made her, for a moment, feel safer without any more contest for Harry's heart. Then Luna left after a very brief interaction. Harry remained seated, staring after the girl. A few minutes later Padma had appeared. Their closeness, Padma laying her head on his shoulder, where her own was supposed to reside, and then Harry laying his own head on hers... The minutes passed painfully slowly, neither making any effort to move from each other. Just as she had been about to interfere, they moved.

Padma then fell onto Harry when she had stood. It had been unintentional in reality; however an observer, especially one like Ginny, saw it differently, saw it planned, contrived to suit a purpose. And that purpose was to take Harry away from her.

It was when the two of them were about to hug outside the Gryffindor common room that Ginny had intervened, and perhaps made the first mistake.

Back then, Harry had looked at her with contempt. Now, it was that same look but magnified so much more.

She shivered involuntarily.

What else could she do? How could she get out of this? How could she achieve her aim now? There was a way, there had to be. There was always a way. But how?

She couldn't try and seduce him with the other two in the room. They'd stop him even if she was successful, which judging by his look, would be next to impossible. She couldn't think of anything suitable enough for a lie. Her mind was blank.

Ginny was left without any options.

"A spell," Ginny said with her voice barely audible even in the silent room. "It was a spell, alright, a spell."

Harry was silent. Honestly, he was surprised that Ginny had answered. He'd been expecting to be here for quite some time before he got any answers. After exchanging a quick look with Hermione and Padma, he knew he wasn't the only one.

Facing the captured girl again, Harry felt a pang of regret inside of him. There was a time less than few months ago he considered this person a dear friend, someone who would risk her life for him and his cause. The beast within Harry pounced on that thought and expanded upon it, cursing the very existence of Hermione Granger and Padma Patil with uncontrolled abandon. With all his might, Harry fought off the rising urges, concentrating on what Ginny had just said she had done.

"What spell?" Hermione asked after a long pause, not noticing Harry's predicament.

Ginny looked towards Hermione with her own contemptuous look. Hermione winced slightly before returning the redheads gaze steadfastly.

Once upon a time Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger had been friends. Once upon a time she believed that Ginny Weasley would blossom into a great female friend who was actually close to Harry and therefore remain with her as their lives continued. Once upon a time she liked Ginny Weasley.

"What spell?" Harry repeated the question. He coughed, hand clutched to his chest, slouching slightly.

Ginny turned back to Harry and saw the state he was in. Hope arose within her. If Harry was still affected then she might get out of this without having to say any more.

"Padma, now," Harry wheezed out. Padma turned to him sharply, saw his condition and pleading in his eyes. Without another second's hesitation, she sent a Stunner that struck Harry dead on. He slumped to the floor, unconscious.

"Why did you do that?" Ginny screamed in outrage, hatred billowing from her being, directed completely towards Padma.

Unflinchingly, Padma faced Ginny and stared her down with her own look of pure hatred. "I'm doing what he asked, what's best for my friend."

"What was happening to him was already what's best for him!" Ginny said in retaliation, undeterred by the dark skinned girls' reply.

Padma didn't respond, choosing instead to stare at the Weasley's only daughter, despising her very existence.

"Padma," Hermione spoke in a soft voice. "That should be long enough."

Nodding, Padma pointed her wand at Harry and cast the counter spell again. A moment later Harry was standing, albeit disoriented.

"What spell?" Harry repeated a third time after a few seconds, facing Ginny, standing straight, unaffected, at least temporarily.

"How…" she whispered.

"His mind resets when he's unconscious," Padma answered the half asked question.

"And Padma will continue to do this whenever I start to lose control, Ginevra." Harry added distastefully. "Face it; you've got the choice of answering now or answering later. The only difference between now and later is later you will have been hanging there for quite a number of hours."

Ginny mulled it over.

"I don't know what it's called," Ginny answered softly, seeing no alternative. There was a reason Filch loved the idea of stringing up students on the walls as punishment. Here she was right now getting her own version, although, thankfully, she wasn't upside down.

"Who told you about it?" Harry asked unrelentingly.

Ginny hesitated.

"You're going to be answering my questions one way or another today, Ginevra," Harry said darkly. "Just make it easier and quicker for the both of us will you?"

Ginny swallowed, uncertain of what Harry would do to get his answers.

"Mum…" she said with her voice a whisper.

Hermione dropped her wand with a clatter. All three eyes turned to her.

She looked to Harry who looked back with understanding written all over his face.

"We were right," Hermione surmised their thoughts. Harry nodded slowly, shocked.

"All along," he added.

"Right about what?" Padma asked her two friends, head turning between the two of them.

"I think it'd be best if Ginevra answers that," Harry responded, turning back to Ginny. "And it'd be best for her to as well."

Hermione, pale faced, and Padma faced Ginny, all three of them watching her intently, awaiting her to speak.

Seeing no other options, Ginny complied.

"During the summer of my fourth year, so the start of your fifth year, mum came to me and asked me about you, Harry." Ginny began. "She wanted to know how I felt about you, how close we were and how you felt about me. I told her how I felt, that we were friends, but distant ones and that you had feelings for Cho."

"She told me an incantation, _'Vis diligo'_, and said that it would help,"

"Vis diligo?" Hermione and Padma said at the same time.

"Forced love," the two of them said at the same time a second time.

"Forced love?" Harry repeated, ignoring their synchronization. "_That's_ what the spell means? It actually means forced love?"

Two nods answered his question.

Harry rounded on Ginny. "And you didn't think the name of this spell wasn't odd?" he asked sarcastically. "You felt that using a spell called 'forced love' on a friend would be alright, that I would be grateful for it?"

"I didn't know the meaning of the spell!" Ginny yelled at him, redhead hair bouncing wildly, her eyes watering. "I didn't even use it until this year. I watched you pine after Cho for months and months, hoping you would notice me now that I was able to talk around you and had a boyfriend of my own. I wanted you to notice me as a girl and deepen our friendship before we'd start dating but you never paid any attention to me!"

"For an entire year I sat by and watched you and Cho fail _spectacularly_, and then with half a summer at the Burrow with nothing, I was tempted alright? I was tempted to us the spell! After watching you two," she glared between Harry and Hermione. "Talk on the first night back like that, I had to! There was nothing left to lose!"

"Those noises from the girls' dormitories –" Hermione said slowly, remembering that night.

"- were you," Harry finished. "You were eavesdropping on us?" he asked angrily.

Ginny shook her head quickly, redhead hair continuing to bounce everywhere with her erratic movements. "I couldn't hear anything. Just watching you two gradually get closer was bad enough."

"And so you cast the spell on me the next day?" Harry asked, pressing her further.

"Yes," Ginny answered solemnly. "I had nothing left to lose. You still didn't notice me after I came with you to the Department of Mysteries or an entire summer at the Burrow."

"Sirius had died!" Harry yelled at Ginny, startling all three others again. "Girls were the last thing on my mind after that! How could you even _think_ that I would be with you after that? How could you even _think_ that I would be contemplating who I liked and didn't like after all that happened?"

"Comfort!" Ginny yelled back, tears filling her eyes.

"Like that fantasy of yours, after the Department of Mysteries in some bed?" Harry seethed, disgusted at the thought. Those fantasies of hers he had seen after looking at her outside the castle were still fresh in his mind.

Ginny nodded, shocked, not even caring to know how he knew.

"How long were you planning on keeping me under this spell?" Harry asked her coldly. He was thinking of Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle Sr. It was unnerving how close history had come to repeating itself, in a way.

Had the possession of Riddle affected Ginny deeper than anyone had ever considered? Was this the reason for the drastic changes within the young redhead? Or was it just destined to happen this way? It did not really matter. It had happened. End of story.

Ginny looked up at Harry. Through her tear laced eyelashes she locked gazes with him.

"Until you loved me."

Hermione's eyes had filled with tears of her own. Had she not had the dreams she'd had this year, Hermione wouldn't have been able to accept what she was being told. The dreams had robbed her of her trust for the Weasleys.

As friends throughout Ginny's first through fourth years, Hermione had had many late night conversations with the girl. Hermione knew about Ginny's crush before and after the Chamber of Secrets ordeal. It had been she who mentioned moving on, dating others.

"So everything that's happened since then," Harry said as calmly as he could with two types of anger rising within again. "Suddenly noticing you, my deteriorating friendship with Hermione, being short with her, is all because of this spell?"

Ginny nodded a second time, a tear falling to the floor.

"This spell" Harry continued, ignoring her tears, thinking about the spells' nature and how to undo it. "Seems to create distance between the people closest to the target, but how does that explain the distrust and hatred towards them like I've been feeling the last couple of weeks?"

"Mum told me to cast the spell only once a week so you would only gradually change," Ginny answered sadly.

"And you feared that I, someone else to contend with, was getting close to Harry and interfered that night?" Padma spoke up again. "Then you started casting the spell more often, increasing the effects, am I right?"

"She didn't start till after I returned from the attack at Diagon Alley," Harry interrupted. Hermione and Padma turned to him with confused looks on their faces.

"How do you know?" asked Hermione, disbelieving.

Harry sighed; he might as well tell them who he was with while he was away. It wasn't like the entire group hadn't already guessed there was something between them after her last visit and his depression afterwards.

"I was with Fleur for those three nights," Harry responded, turning to face a far wall, away from their accusing eyes. "We … we were close."

Ginny looked up with surprise covering her features.

"I thought she was engaged to Bill," Ginny said, voicing Hermione and Padma's thoughts also.

"She is," Harry replied bluntly.

There was a small silence.

"That bitch…" Ginny muttered. Harry rounded back on her, stepping forward and grasping her robes tightly.

"Don't you _dare_ call her that!" Harry yelled in her face, startling the other three deeply. "You have _no_ right; _no_ right whatsoever to pass judgment on something you know nothing about! You have _no_ right to pass judgment on anyone after what you've done!"

Harry studied her face closely. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted in an expression of sincere sadness. A second tear dropped to the floor.

Harry looked away, releasing her and saw Hermione's horrified expression. Remembering her dreams, he turned back to face the redhead.

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, controlling himself.

"What about Hermione?" Ginny asked back, genuine confusion in her voice. "If something's been done to Hermione then it wasn't me."

Harry was left speechless, his anger abated temporarily. This time he could tell she wasn't lying. She had nothing to gain by lying anymore.

"Who else knows of this spell besides you and your mother?" he asked hurriedly. She had to know the answer.

"Just us I think," Ginny responded, thinking. Her eyes then opened wide, an 'oh' escaping her lips.

"'Oh' what?" Harry pressed Ginny further. The Weasley gave no response. Harry asked again, losing patience.

"…Ron might have overheard us…" Ginny responded slowly.

"Might have?" Harry pressed again.

"We were talking in the kitchen and as soon as the conversation finished Ron entered looking…flustered, I suppose, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have," Ginny answered, dropping her head downwards again. "I didn't think much of it at the time. We were in the middle of prank war with Fred and George … I thought it had something to do with that."

There was a long silence following that admission. There was so much to absorb.

What if Ginny had never overused the spell? Would Harry have ever noticed? Would any of them have noticed? Would Harry and Ginny have been together at this point, or would've been soon enough?

Harry reached for Ginny's robes again, grasping hold tightly and leaning in closely.

"Do you even realize what you've done to me?" he asked quietly. "Do you realize that you've betrayed my trust, something I will never be able to give you again. Do you realize that whenever I see you, I'll think of this moment and you'll never be thought of fondly? Do you realize that this ends our so called friendship? You said you had nothing left to lose, but you lost my friendship, my trust and my faith in you."

Harry let go of her robes and took several steps back.

"I hope you're happy with the results of your gamble," Harry muttered. "Now tell us how to undo it."

Two more tears joined the first two on the floor. "Add _'terminus'_ to the front of the incantation."

Harry turned to Padma. "Cast the spell on the wall or something first. No surprises."

Padma nodded and proceeded to cast the spell. A short, pink-ish beam, tinged with black, spat from the wand. It did nothing to wall. No damage, nothing.

Harry faced Padma again. "Cast it on Hermione first. Just in case. I can wait."

Padma nodded, mind preoccupied with all that had just been revealed. She felt out of place, like she didn't belong here. This felt like it had been a moment between the three of them, something she shouldn't have been a part of… yet she couldn't bring herself to leave. It wasn't simple curiosity that kept her but her will to help Harry and Hermione, who were now two of the best friends she'd ever had or probably ever would have.

Facing Hermione, she raised her wand. Hermione faced Padma back, her expression resolute.

Padma took a deep breath and prayed that this would work. "_Terminus vis diligo._"

Hermione's eyes glazed over, her heart began to beat rapidly, mind a rush with activity.

"Did it work?" asked Harry warily.

Hermione nodded, but she was barely paying attention.

Padma turned back to Harry and cast the same spell with his confirmation. His eyes glazed over, heart began to beat rapidly and his mind flurried with activity.

Both Harry and Hermione were standing stock still. Odd concoctions of feelings were rushing through them.

Harry's lust for Ginny, distrust for Hermione and hatred for her and Padma were leaving him, giving rebirth to his own, real, honest emotions for each of them.

Hermione's, to her surprise, own small feelings of distrust towards Harry were wiped away, her own real trust for him returning.

A mixture of other feelings were wiping away and being replaced by their real, former, true feelings. An emotional outpour…

Regret was a prominent emotion filling both Gryffindors. Like before, Harry was ashamed of himself for letting his relationship with Hermione deteriorate like it had. Hermione was regretting her, even minor, bickering with, and mistrust of, Harry and for not noticing and realizing the problem a lot sooner.

Harry turned back to Ginny, who was silently crying from her perch on the wall. Padma closed the gap between Harry and herself and placed her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"I can't believe she would actually do it." Harry whispered to Padma.

"Betrayal, from close friends especially, is one of the most painful and hard to accept acts in the world," Padma replied, her eyes watching the silently crying redhead. "Here," she said, offering Harry back his wand.

It took Harry a few seconds to realize what she was giving him back and he took it gratefully.

With a quick flick, Ginny was released from the wall and crumbled to the ground, Ginny letting out a small shriek at the sudden ability to move.

Harry stared down at Ginny, who was crumbled on the ground. "Leave us alone from now on, alright?" Harry told her emotionlessly. "Leave us alone and we won't tell anyone about this. Don't tell anyone about anyone of this – Fleur included – and don't talk to any of us, got it?"

Ginny looked up into Harry's eyes and saw the hurt, the pain and the honesty in there. He never wanted to speak of this day again and she saw it.

Nodding, Ginny stood up and walked to the door. She stopped with her hand on the knob and turned back to Padma, who threw her her wand. Turning a bit further, Ginny faced Harry's back.

"Harry, I'm…" she started to apologize.

"Don't, Ginny," Harry interrupted her. "Just leave."

Tears still flowing, Ginny tried to open the door, found it locked, cast the counterspell and opened the door. With a near inaudible click, the door closed behind her.

Harry fell to his knees and punched the ground, hard. Groaning at the sudden pain in his knuckles, Harry sat down and brought his fist close to his chest.

Hermione slumped to the ground as well, exhausted emotionally and mentally.

Padma stood off to the side, very well aware of how she shouldn't be there any longer. The two of them needed to heal, to bond together and reaffirm their friendship and that wasn't something she should see. It was private, between them.

This time obeying her instincts, Padma walked to the door and left.

For a long time the two Gryffindors sat in silence, far too wrapped up in their own thoughts.

It was Hermione who was the first to speak.

"You were in France with Fleur all that time," she said softly, startling Harry who'd forgotten he wasn't alone. He looked about and found Padma gone. Silently he thanked her for her discretion.

"Yeah," Harry replied honestly. There was no point hiding it anymore. It wasn't like it was the beginning of anything special. Her choice had been made.

"Her house is under Fidelius then?" she asked softly still.

"Yeah," Harry repeated.

"You said you were close … how close?" Hermione asked hesitantly, getting on her hands and knees. Harry looked up to face her and found her looking at him intently, tears in her eyes. "Please Harry; I just want us to be friends like we were for the past five years. I just want us to be able to be honest and be able to confide within each other again. I know you're a private person and this might be asking too much …" she paused and cast her eyes down. "But, please, can you tell me about France?"

Harry didn't have the heart or resolve to say no, even if he didn't want to hide those three nights any longer.

"As we, Fleur and I, were leaving Diagon Alley, we spotted Narcissa Malfoy and some woman talking with a Silencing Charm around them." Harry began in an equally soft voice to Hermione's. "After losing out on five hundred thousand galleons, I figured it was rather suspicious for her to be talking to someone under a Silencing Charm and so did Fleur. They attacked us, I knocked Fleur out of the way of the Cruciatus and it hit me." 

Hermione, listening intently, moved forward slowly. Back on the first night here, they'd reached a new level of friendship, of understanding with each other. Harry's friendship was her ground, her point of focus. Without him, she was sailing blindly, uselessly in the world with nothing but books as companions. She wanted her anchor to the wizarding world back.

Harry continued, not noticing Hermione drawing closer. "Fleur lit Bella alight with one of her Veela powers. I don't really understand how," he said shaking his head while staring off into the distance, unfocused. "She picked me up and dragged me into the Leaky Cauldron. I told her not to go to Hogwarts or the Weasleys and asked her to go to her place. We Apparated there and I think I must've passed out because the next thing I knew I was in a bed and Fleur was crying beside me…"

Hermione continued moving closer while Harry was talking, absorbing everything he said eagerly. She finally stopped and sat down facing him, just in front and to the right of where he was facing.

"We talked for awhile," Harry went on. "I met her parents who are pretty nice, especially since they let me stay though they don't know a thing about me. Fleur and I had dinner in, as I found out, her bedroom and eventually it came to time to go to sleep. I said I'd sleep on the floor but Fleur kept pushing me back. I couldn't really resist with the constant twitches preventing me from being able to function properly. She said she was sleeping in the same bed in case I needed anything."

Harry cast his eyes upwards, thinking. "Now that I think on it, I think her plan was to keep me distracted by using her presence to distract me from the pain. It actually worked quite well and I was able to get to sleep pretty quickly with no potions or anything."

"We spent the next day exploring their property and just talking, getting along well," Harry said with a small smile on his face. Hermione watched him recall his time in France with intense interest, her eyes still clouded with yet to be shed tears. She reached out and brushed a strand of hair that was covering Harry's left eye. Harry didn't notice it at all, too swept up in the memories and still overwhelming influx and outflow of emotions from the removal of the spell that had affected them both for so long.

"We slept in the same bed again that night and by morning I was fine. We went shopping in Paris and I finally got some new Muggle clothes." Harry smiled to himself. "I quite enjoyed shopping actually. She didn't boss me around or anything. She asked what I liked; pointed out a few things she did and didn't pressure me into anything. It was … fun."

"You were happy," Hermione whispered, a tear finally streaking down her cheek. Harry nodded.

"When she was holding me when we were in bed … it was the first time anyone had ever done that to me … I felt happy, even though I was in pain, I was… I think I was almost at peace." Hermione let out a small sob, another tear joining the first one.

"The third night … by that time I was already used to her holding me and I _know_ she enjoyed it too …" Harry paused, a tear of his own trailing down his right cheek. Hermione reached up and brushed it away.

"We just kissed … it took a bit of time but we did …" Harry paused again. "I thought I'd ruined our friendship by doing that. I was getting along with her so well … but she was engaged. That had stopped me from kissing her for what had to have been an hour that night …"

"Then she kissed me on her own volition and I kissed back." Harry smiled at the memory, the feel of her lips, fresh in his mind now that Ginny's spell, which had drowned out the memory over the past weeks, was gone. He put a finger to his lips, pulling ever so slightly on his lower lip at the memory of Fleur doing the same with her own lips.

"When we awoke … things were a little weird between us … we didn't know where we stood with each other anymore and then tried to ignore everything else. It didn't last … we went and got my Apparition license from the French Ministry and met the Minister, Aldric Dolton. He's the one who told me about Voldemort's envoys."

Hermione nodded sadly. She understood almost everything now. Harry had bared his heart to her, giving out his deepest, happiest moment of his life willingly. Had it been any other time, he wouldn't have told her about this. This was something very personal and she could understand now Harry's hesitancy to mention anything. She sobbed again, thinking that she may have just been taking advantage of Harry in his emotionally fragile state. She couldn't help it, she needed it too, something powerful to draw them back together.

Reaching forward, she placed a hand on Harry's right, with his left still up near his lips. Harry turned to face her, his own eyes filled with unshed tears. There was a great sadness behind the tears, sadness at being betrayed and sadness at losing Fleur, someone who Hermione was almost certain he had fallen in love with.

"We parted without sorting anything out between us …" Harry said while staring straight into Hermione's own eyes. "When she came here with the pensieve … afterwards … she told me she was staying with Bill." Harry smiled to himself. "I expected it, knew it was coming, knew it was an impossibility for her and me to be together, and I was still hurt, more than I think I let myself believe, by it."

"I suppose all of you figured there was something between us?" Harry halfheartedly asked, already knowing that there had been speculation about it.

Hermione nodded, her eyes never leaving Harry's for a moment. Her left hand remained on his right, her right hand rising to his left cheek.

"Harry," she breathed. Harry felt her breath on him.

"Hermione," Harry whispered back. Hermione could feel his breath on her lips as she unconsciously moved closer.

"What … what are we doing, Harry?" she asked, still moving closer.

"This … this isn't right," Harry replied softly, their eyes still never parting for any period longer than a blink. He could feel her breath on him strongly. She was close, very close.

Hermione closed her eyes and closed the miniscule distance between herself and Harry. Harry, realizing the similarity to the situation he was in last year, closed his own eyes and leaned forward slightly.

But at the last second, he stopped and turned aside. Hermione opened her eyes, filled with tears, and looked at him worriedly.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Hermione quietly, leaning away from him.

"I'm sorry," replied Harry, shaking his head. "We're not in our right minds yet, we can't do this. I know we'll regret it later."

Harry's heart was beating quickly, mind rushing with the knowledge that he and Hermione had nearly kissed. It couldn't happen, not this way at the very least. He was still hung up on Fleur; he knew it deep down, although he wouldn't admit it aloud. One did not just quit caring about Fleur Delacour, especially considering the dynamics between them.

Then what would have happened if he had never kissed Fleur? Would he have kissed Hermione?

For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he had given in. Would that have been the end of their friendship, or the start of more?

It was something he would not know the answer to in his lifetime.

Hermione was worried, concerned, desperate and embarrassed all at once. She was worried she had made a fatal mistake. This was a time of great importance in the recovery of their friendship and, in her moment of weakness, she had nearly ruined things for certain. She was concerned about Harry and how he was fairing, if he would continue to distrust her after what she had nearly done. She was desperate to have Harry back in her life like he had been before, and she was embarrassed for letting herself give in to her unexpected desire in her emotional state.

"Hermione?" Harry said softly, breaking Hermione out of her reverie.

"Harry…" she whispered before raising her voice. "Harry, oh Harry I-I-I didn't mean to…" Hermione started shaking her head, unable to accept that this could be the end, even after being released from the spell affecting them both.

"Hermione…" he whispered, unable to look away. Harry didn't know what to say to comfort her; he didn't know what _he_ wanted to hear, let alone her. This was all so confusing. The emotional outpour was still affecting him, his judgment impaired.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered back, moving backwards, away from Harry. "It-it-it must be the re-emergence of our old emotions all at once."

Harry shook his head, not in disagreement, but trying to clear his head. Still, he could not think of a way to straighten things out quickly.

"We should go sort ourselves out," he said eventually. "Make sure we're in our right minds…"

Hermione nodded, biting her bottom lip. She stood shakily, nearly falling twice before regaining her proper balance. Harry followed suit, having similar problems with his balance.

Both seemed reluctant to make the first move. Their minds were shut down, not yet able to comprehend the meaning of all that had happened in the past hour.

After what seemed like an age, the two of them moved at once for the door. Harry paused and let Hermione open the door. She stepped out into the corridor and Harry followed a few steps behind.

The two stood beside each other, though not facing each other for a long moment. The silence pressed around them. Harry felt he should say something, anything to fill the void.

"We'll be okay." Harry said softly, but adamantly. It was all he could come up with. He hoped it would be at least something of comfort.

Hermione nodded. Whether she had registered the words or not was undeterminable for Harry.

"We will." Hermione replied in the same tone.

Harry took a step forward and tentatively reached out to touch her, the contact important. He still hesitated, uncertain whether he should or not. Hermione reached out, and the two shared a brief moment of contact. He met her eyes and offered a tired smile, and she returned it.

An unspoken agreement passed between them. They needed a bit of time alone to sort things out, and then they could return to normal.

Without another word, she took off to the right. Harry didn't feel offended by the act or try and stop her. He, after all, was in the same boat as her; confused.

Out of it, Harry marched his way back to his dormitory, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. In his room, Harry looked around, taking in his surroundings. The usual mess was present, stemming mostly from Dean and Seamus' beds, with Ron a few steps behind.

The teenager was alone in the room. It was still only mid-afternoon and everyone was either downstairs working on their homework or outside, enjoying the last vestiges of daylight before snow season came in its entirety. Dozens of voices drifted up from the school grounds to the window. The constant chatter of happy students, without a care in the world except for homework or Quidditch, passed through Harry's mind unnoticed.

Harry sat down on his bed, closed his curtains and lay down on the covers. His constant, shallow breathing was the only sound from his bed for some time. He lay there for hours and thought, long and hard, trying to make sense of everything that had happened in the last day, his friendship with Hermione, and discern what direction his life would head now that he was down another friend.


	14. Afterwards

A/N: Thanks to chem prof for his beta work.

_**Chapter 1**__**4: Afterwards**_

"This is it." Hermione said with her head in a large, musty tome. One hand held it aloft; the second tracked her progress down the page. "It has it all: the gradual increase in desire for the target, the memory erasing, and the mood swings." She looked up and gave Harry a half smile. "At least now we know exactly what we were dealing with. It explains a lot of our actions from the past six weeks."

Harry nodded in response, though without enthusiasm. He was exhausted.

It was two days hence the confrontation with Ginny. Hermione had secluded herself into the Library the following morning and had barely emerged since, according to reports from an ever present Neville. Harry had spent most of the time in his dorm, pacing or just laying there trying to sort out everything that had happened and make sense of it all. His mind was still a mess, but he was definitely better.

"Says here," continued Hermione. "That the spell was originally created in the 900s and has been extensively modified in years since. However, in the 1700s it..." Hermione paused and looked up at Harry and the gathered DA members behind him. "It was considered to be very dangerous and users should be reported to the proper authorities."

Harry, Susan, Hannah, Padma, Neville, Katie, Ernie, Daphne, Luna and Su all wore different expressions ranging from concentration, apprehension, disgust, loathing, sorrow and satisfaction.

"You won't believe how long it took me to find this book." Hermione said with a weary smile. She had worked almost non-stop in her search and only upon Padma and Su's insistence had she retired for a few hours sleep in the previous night.

This particular tome was found in the Restricted Section. Professor McGonagall had not known about the spell when Hermione had asked for an approval signature to search the Restricted Section. A fair bit of nifty explanation on the spot had assuaged the Professor's fears and questions, and Hermione had found the spell a few hours later.

After dinner, the DA had assembled in the Room and the story of the confrontation with Ginny was related. The reactions involved were a mixture of curses, threats, speculation regarding if the Weasleys' only daughter was under the _Imperius_, and several spells destroying various pieces of furniture thought up for that specific purpose.

"Unbelievable," Ernie muttered, slapping his hands down on the table with the thick, old tome, causing Hermione to jump at the sudden noise. "Unbelievable that someone would sink so low to cast magic to gain one's attention. Haven't we been taught by Professor Slughorn that love isn't fabricated?"

"We have," said Susan distastefully. "She's a year younger, remember. She may not have had the same lecture, or a variation."

Ernie absorbed that piece of information. "That doesn't change the fact that she should know better, as a pureblood, the limitations of magic. I can't understand her attitude. How can one imagine that this would work?"

"It happens," Padma responded solemnly, sitting on one of the arms of a burgundy couch. "Desperation and obsession mingled together drive people beyond what they are normally capable of. Morals are of less importance in the face of desperation and obsession."

"And she was desperate," Harry spoke up from the rightmost spot on the couch next to Padma, his arm running his hand through his hair, no less solemnly than Padma was speaking. "She put everything on the line in the use of that spell."

"Ginny was long lost to her desire, Harry," Luna added soberly from a cushion on the floor to the right of a table in front of Harry, between himself and Hermione. Ernie was standing on the right end of the table, facing the odd girl curiously. "By the time she used that spell, there was no other course of action than the one that progressed."

"The question is what we do about her?" said Daphne, bluntly, from the other arm rest on the burgundy couch. Slowly Harry turned to face the Slytherin, not from disinterest but from exhaustion. His mind was unable to perform at one hundred percent yet, and he was physically exhausted – a combination of a lack of sleep and his attitude mixing within his state of mind.

"The book says the spell should be reported," Neville replied, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow. "If that is the case, the spell is either illegal, or the author believes it should be. There would be a punishment for it. It may involve a heavy fine, a magically binding order, or even prison time. From memory, spells of this caliber and intention are heavily frowned upon, pureblood or not, and Ginny would not get off lightly for her use of it. It's a wonder why any and all love spells or potions are legal. It's like using a less effective Imperius."

Katie shook her head from her position behind Hermione. "Most love spells or potions last only a few hours at most, depending on the dose. This spell is long term, and by the sound of this line," she reached down behind Hermione, and after a moment, opened the book to the correct page, pointing to the line she was referring to. "'_…and one of few to have a permanent effect for as long as the focus's wand remains intact_' may even be permanent if the spell isn't removed. Overdoing it as she did only made the spell far more powerful than it was meant to be."

"That doesn't answer the question," Susan said sharply from the left most part of the burgundy couch, her tone catching most of the group by surprise. "_She_ cast this spell on Harry and, for all we know, would have enslaved him for the rest of his life."

"What Susan is trying to say," Hannah added quickly from her spot between Susan and Harry, her hands resting on Susan's shoulder, trying to calm her rare temper. "Is that Ginny should face up to what she's done and accept the consequences for her actions. This spell doesn't allow someone to act or react normally. It wasn't a question of when, but a matter of time before Harry would be seriously injured because he couldn't function properly."

Daphne had raised the all important question. What should be done about Ginny? Hermione had no answer. Her actions were inexcusable, there was no denying that. However, it had appeared that Ginny did not understand the implications of her actions until Harry had spelled it out for her. That was when her dreams were shattered and she had opened up in her defeat.

She had seen it, and so had Harry, in Ginny's eyes when she had finally told them everything and Harry had told her what she had lost. There was nothing but deep sorrow there. There was nothing but remorse there. There was nothing but regret there.

The problem was that she had never felt remorse or regret when she was seconds away from having Harry take her right there in that unused room on the second floor.

She had wanted it, desired it, and the end, to her, had justified the means.

So what was the right thing to do? The same question was running through both Harry and Hermione's minds, and the answers were uncertain.

With the revelation out, the one thing the two desired was for all it to be over. They did not desire revenge or vengeance – perhaps strangely so, perhaps not. All the two wished was to be left alone to return to their lives and concentrate on their futures.

But that wasn't exactly practical. Something had to be done.

"This is Harry's decision," Hermione said facing him. Then she added firmly, "And his decision will be final since he has been the most affected by this. We will accept his choice. Agreed?"

There were a few nods and a few yes's from the group who all turned to face Harry.

Harry was silent for a length period of time. His intense look of concentration was the sole reason he was not badgered by anyone, including the less patient female of the group.

Harry's decision weighed heavily for the future of Ginny Weasley. His decision could destroy her education and have far-reaching effects into her real world life, given the opportunity if Voldemort would be defeated, and equally so he could rescue it from that fate.

After what seemed an age to everyone awaiting his response, Harry sighed deeply and closed his eyes. He opened his mouth and spoke four words that generated the biggest argument between all of them since the group formed two months prior.

"I won't do anything."

Hermione inwardly sighed with relief, a small smile crossing her face as the room erupted around her. She was relieved that Harry was still the same man she knew, and would not become vindictive and vengeful because of his experiences.

To some extent each of the DA members understood the very thoughts that Hermione had had, that by answering this way Harry was still the same Harry; however that didn't prevent them from being outraged by it.

"Harry," Susan pleaded after a chorus of 'what?' echoed throughout the room. "Why? You know what she did to you. How could you let her get off scot free?"

"Are you sure Harry?" Hannah added a moment later. "What if she tries something different? Putting an end to it now is the safest way."

"Is that really the wisest course of action?" Ernie said seriously. "We know she's capable of this. What else is she capable of?"

"Her 'love' for you isn't going to disappear just like that," Katie said, clicking her fingers to illustrate her point.

As hopelessly distracted and tired as he was, Harry knew that none of them were really angry with _him_, merely the fact that Ginny would get off without any significant punishment.

"I am going to speak to Dumbledore about all this," Harry spoke, interrupting the torrent of responses turned debate after a full minute of a furious exchange of words. "I will leave her punishment in his hands."

Most of the complaints died away almost immediately. It did not escape his attentions that Daphne, from whom Harry had anticipated the most vocal resistance, or at least the most blunt and offensive resistance, had remained silent, choosing instead to survey him curiously. He returned her gaze for a moment, curious as to her silence.

"I'm quite sure Ginny is regretting what she did with every ounce of her soul –" Harry began to answer the group, returning his focus to them.

"– Not for the right reasons," Susan muttered, her arms crossed and her attitude sour.

"-There's no reason to bother taking this to… um, Wizengamot, or wherever." Harry continued, ignoring Susan. "I'm not going to drag her, Hermione and myself up there to testify to put Ginny in Azkaban or anything of the sort. After seeing what it did to Sirius, I would wish that only on a very few people, and Ginny isn't one of them."

Ernie attempted to interrupt, but Harry continued before he could. "Yes, she may attempt something else. Equally so, she may not. For now, I'd like to believe she will not. What's done is done and it can't be undone. But, as someone pointed out to me recently –" he gave Daphne the briefest of glances. "– It isn't worth dwelling on anymore. I will speak with Dumbledore, whatever comes of that will be the end. I will move on."

"You're weak, Potter," Daphne said bluntly, voicing her opinion at last. Harry faced her, immediately ticked off. "Weasley is a threat. Keeping her from serious punishment gives her the impression she still has a chance. She will try again."

"For once I have to agree with Daphne," Hannah said quietly. Her voice carried in the silence following Daphne's proclamation, drawing her several looks.

"That's enough," Hermione said authoritatively. "Harry's made his choice and you all agreed to stand by it."

Daphne glared at Hermione, her lips twitching in what appeared to be a barely successful attempt at preventing herself from retorting.

"Carry on, then," Ernie said, looking at Daphne, baiting her. "Share what you got to say."

He was silenced with one look from the Slytherin. Everyone now knew she had the power to back up any threats and had no real wish to cross her on such menial matters.

"This is the last I'll say on the matter, alright?" Harry said, eyes briefly catching the others in the room, preventing anymore interruptions. "Ginny, however misguided, has been a friend for a few years. She has helped me when I needed her help, and had been a… decent… friend."

He faced Daphne fully and stared deep into her eyes. "I disagree with you. You did not see her. She was defeated, she had given up."

Daphne maintained his gaze, crossing her arms challengingly. "You're right, I did not see her," she conceded. "This may be the case here and if so, I can accept that. However, Potter, if you want to succeed with this group of yours, you will have to ensure your enemies do not have a second chance."

She had a point. It was, though, a former friend, and that complicated matters, in his opinion.

"You're far too soft, Potter," Daphne added in the same blunt tone, standing up. Harry could tell she didn't mean it as a critical remark this time, merely an observation.

Harry grimaced and adjusted his glasses. "You're not exactly channelling your usual persona either, Miss Greengrass, helping me and all. You might be getting soft too."

There were occasions in life when you just knew you did something stupid. For Harry, this was one of them.

Harry turned to face Daphne head-on, sensing something very, very dangerous emanating from her. It was once he'd gained eye contact with the temperamental Slytherin that he understood just what a mistake he had made.

"Watch your mouth, Potter," Daphne retorted, facing flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and anger – and perhaps something more. "Or I'll rip it out and stick it up your…"

"Hey, hey," Neville interrupted before the sentence could be complete, stepping forward, hands raised in a gesture of peace. "There's no need to go down that road."

Daphne rounded on Neville, blonde hair twisting and hitting her neck and shoulder with the sharp turn. Hermione inwardly winced, knowing Neville would regret opening his mouth in a second.

"Want to try me, Longbottom?" Daphne said darkly. "Think you have the balls to back up Potter here against _me_?"

Even without their recent history of heated comments, it wasn't a surprise that Neville clenched his jaw shut and merely glowered at Daphne. For several moments he kept it up before Daphne, sick of it, sent him her own glower that would've scared a lion had her temperament been directed on it.

To everyone's surprise, Harry laughed at the two of them. Daphne whirled around to face him.

"What's so damn funny, Potter?" she demanded, eyes glowing in the same dangerous manner.

"Nothing you need to be concerned about, Daphne," Harry said carelessly as he removed his glasses and wiped his eyes, replacing the glasses afterwards.

Perhaps on any other day, Daphne wouldn't have accepted such an answer. Today, though, she let it slide after a long visual examination. Daphne began pacing slowly, preoccupied. A small silence enveloped the room.

"Where do we head from here?" her small voice carried through the silence quite clearly.

"We get back to work, don't we?" Harry replied immediately.

"No," Hermione said while shaking her head, startling Harry. "_We_," she continued while gesturing to all but Harry. "Go back to work. _You_ on the other hand are taking time off." Harry was opening his mouth to respond when Padma interrupted him.

"She's right, Harry, you more than any of us need to take a break." Padma placed an arm tentatively on his shoulder. For a moment she expected Harry to tell her to let him go and to see the anger in his eyes again.

Harry looked up at her and she looked deep into his green eyes through the now famous glasses of his. There was no anger in there, but there was happiness, relief and, still, traces of sadness.

Padma smiled at him. "Take a week off, Harry. We've come a long way since we started. There's no point in running ourselves into the ground practicing if we're unable to get up long enough to mount a defence when the time comes."

Hannah placed a hand on his other shoulder. Harry turned to her. "We all appreciate everything you've done for us. Now let us do something for you. Hermione can lead us for a little bit, and then you can take over again in the last weeks before Christmas."

"Go to class, go to your extra lessons, sort everything out," Susan added from behind Hannah. "And then spend some time just having fun."

Harry looked up at the rest of the group, seeing they were all in agreement. Still emotionally exhausted, he blinked away the possible emergence of tears – exhaustion or emotional, it didn't matter – and smiled gratefully at the group.

"Thanks."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Your experiences at Hogwarts, Harry, are numerous and eventful." Dumbledore stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Harry was seated in the Headmaster's office a few hours after he had left the Room of Requirement. The fireplace in the office provided comfortable warmth where Harry could relate the events of the past couple weeks to the Headmaster in comfort.

"You certainly have a unique outlook on events, sir," Harry replied, partially amused and partially irritated by the remark. His opinion of the man was still in a state of flux, and while the lighthearted humor would have been appreciated perhaps on a different day, presently it did nothing for him.

"I am aware of the spell young Miss Weasley performed on you," Dumbledore informed his sole audience – the former Headmasters' portraits forgotten. "I must admit that I am surprised that there are those out there still that are aware of the spell. From memory, it has not been recorded in use since several decades before my birth." Dumbledore let out a small chuckle while reaching for and extracting a lemon drop from their ever-present home on his desk. "That, however, is not an indicator of all spell use, of course."

"The book Hermione found stated that use was to be reported," Harry explained, slumping a bit in his chair from tiredness. "What is the penalty for using it?"

"I'm afraid the consequences of informing the Ministry would be quite severe, Harry." Dumbledore revealed. "There would be an inquest into the length of time the spell was in use, the damage the spell caused, and the source, and the severity of the sentencing would be determined by the information gathered."

"Azkaban is a possibility then?" asked Harry straightforwardly. Dumbledore stopped all movement and examined Harry closely, carefully.

"I sincerely hope, Harry, that you do not wish Miss Weasley to be sentenced to Azkaban," Dumbledore said softly and precisely. "You should be aware of the horrors that place holds from your own experiences. Miss Weasley would relive her possession by Voldemort and her betrayal repeatedly, day in and day out. She may not be able to survive her incarceration."

"I had not thought of that," Harry admitted, though he had never truly considered the option of pressing that far. His bluntness had been misinterpreted though.

"What do you suggest her punishment be, Harry?" inquired Dumbledore curiously. His answer would provide insight into the state of mind of his most important charge.

"Honestly, sir, I don't want to make much more of this than has already happened," Harry further admitted. "I just want to put this behind me and move forward. I have been convinced that something does need to be done, though."

"An understandable and relieving reaction," replied Dumbledore with a warm smile. "From what I am able to gather, you are working your way through this quite well on your own, as is Miss Granger. I am pleased to hear that you do not wish to destroy Miss Weasley's future because of her actions."

"Yes, sir,"

"But I'm afraid as Headmaster; I will have to enforce a punishment," Dumbledore added solemnly. Harry sat up straight again. The two held each other's gaze. "Love potions are fickle concoctions, Harry. Some, as you are no doubt aware, take them far beyond practical jokes and, if I may, immature fancy. As Headmaster, I cannot allow Miss Weasley's actions to occur on a second occasion."

"I understand, sir."

"Miss Weasley will henceforth be confined to her own dorm room at all non-class and meal times. A house-elf will be watching over her at all times and will provide an escort to and from her classes and meals – out of sight, but they will be there, and Miss Weasley will not be aware of them. Miss Weasley will not be able to partake in any extra-circular activities and will spend the remainder of her fifth year away from her fellow students. Her behavior will be monitored at all times and at the end of the next term, she will be re-evaluated and her future will then be determined."

Harry absorbed the rundown of the punishment. Dumbledore was not a man to expel students if he could help it, which was not uncommon knowledge, and this was a continuation of that trend.

"I pray that Miss Weasley has the smarts to understand her mistake and learn from it," Dumbledore intoned, growing serious. "Some magics are better left buried, Harry, and this is one of those. I would want nothing more than Miss Weasley to learn from her mistake, but the use of this spell and the implications of it are unacceptable."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"I will leave it up to you whether or not any action will be partaken on Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore intoned. "He has been punished already, and from what you have told me he has been severely affected by these events. It is of my opinion that sometimes it is enough that realization and personal guilt equate to an adequate punishment."

Harry sent him an inquiring gaze.

"This view is not shared by everyone, I know." Dumbledore responded. "As I said, it is your decision completely regarding Mr. Weasley."

Harry drifted into a long silence.

"You may dwell on this if you must, Harry." Dumbledore continued. "The option is will be there until you make your decision. Think on it."

"I will." Harry replied after a beat.

"Lastly, I will ask that you leave Mrs. Weasley and her… actions for me to deal with, Harry."

Harry sent the Headmaster a quizzical look.

"The private lives of my fellow Order members are that, Harry, private." Dumbledore spoke calmly but authoritatively. "Such actions, however, cannot be allowed to continue and remain unpunished."

Harry studied the Headmaster for a long moment, attempting to discern what actions he would take, or if he would take any at all. Harry believed that Dumbledore wouldn't let him come in any danger again from any outside influences, well meaning allies or otherwise.

Given the chance, Harry had no idea what he would do with Mrs. Weasley. He had no idea her motives, her reasons or her mentality behind her choices, and may never know. He might regret doing something or he might regret doing nothing. This was not something he could decide right now.

"Does all that sound reasonable to you?" inquired Dumbledore, honestly seeking the opinion of the student directly involved.

"Yes sir." Harry replied with a tired, final nod of the head.

And that was that.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The evening following the meeting with Dumbledore, Hermione had pulled Harry aside after dinner to talk. Yet another unused classroom found itself occupied by Harry and at least one of his friends for a private conversation. Harry merely chose to think of it as less compromising than a broom closet.

_Thank you, Justin and Megan, for implanting those thoughts in my head._

The standard charms later and Hermione was facing Harry, who was seated on a chair behind an abandoned, dusty table in the front row. There were a dozen other chairs around, a few toppled over, and a large table in the front of the room where the professor would've sat.

Harry's gaze drifted around the room for a minute before focusing his attention on Hermione. Now that it had come to the time to talk, Harry and Hermione were both silent. In Harry's mind, this was an all too similar situation to when he was wondering what he could possibly say to Fleur after he left France. How could _this_ conversation start?

"It was an emotional moment," Hermione finally blurted out.

"It was," Harry replied gruffly.

"We – I needed to be close to you again after this disaster of a first term," Hermione continued, unaware of Harry's reply. "I think in our fragile state …" she trailed off.

"We nearly kissed," Harry added helpfully.

"Right," Hermione said, hearing him this time, and becoming noticeably more uncomfortable. "And that was simply a moment were two teenagers were vulnerable and, as a male and female, sought comfort with each other. It is something that happens, and –"

"-There's no need to worry, Hermione," Harry interrupted with a small smile at her flustered state. "It's okay. I don't feel anything peculiar towards you… well, not that I did for a long time before, but you know what I mean. We're still friends. If we can survive as long as we did under that spell, we can survive a near kiss, extenuating circumstances and all."

Hermione was stunned for a moment, and then beamed. "Thank goodness." She looked happier than he had seen her in some time.

"Here," Harry said, taking his ring off his right ring finger and throwing it to Hermione, who scrambled to catch it against her robes. "That should make it easier for you to get meetings together without me."

"Honestly Harry, we're not excluding you or anything," began Hermione testily. Harry couldn't resist smiling at her, and she halted her lecture. Things were already returning to normal.

The two were then silent, enjoying a, finally, comfortable silence together for a moment. But it did have to end.

"Come on, you've got essays to do and I've got a lesson with Flitwick," Harry said as he stood up, acting as he normally would around her – that alone important.

He, after only hesitating a second, laid a hand on Hermione's shoulder as he drew level with her. She enveloped him in a gentle, brief hug. She withdrew quickly, however, nerves or something else the reason why.

Their friendship with each other had then begun to mend to the extent they were able to interact nearly in the same manner they had before the entire ordeal had started, with only minor awkwardness between them. It had been a surprisingly easy task, all in all. But they spent more time together than they had been so far, even if it was predominantly in silence while Hermione worked, and that had helped.

The topic of their near kiss had not been broached again in any conversation. By unspoken agreement, the two of them understood each other's motives behind the act and their enthusiasm for it. The two of them understood they had needed comfort, Hermione especially, and the massive initial release of emotions was still affecting them when Harry was talking about Fleur. Since they had returned to their former friendship, there was little reason to bring it up again. It did not, however, leave their minds completely, contributing to some of their awkwardness.

But they were on the mend. The two weren't as close as they had been at the start of the year, and both were disappointed by that fact. Their friendship had kept them going from their first year to the present, and losing that was inconceivable and disastrous for both. However, the events of the term had forced them to take several steps back. It would take some more time, but they would return to their former friendship, and nothing would interfere with that this time.

They had made their mistake. And it was one that would not be repeated.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Winter in all its glory arrived with a sudden week long snowstorm. For Herbology, classes were reduced to theory work when numerous students simply decided against braving the weather to reach the greenhouses. The warmth provided by the hundreds of fires in the castle was more than enough enticement for Professor Sprout as well.

Schoolwork had gone amazingly well for Harry this term. Perhaps it was the lack of pressure of homework, the additional lessons, or a bit of both, that resulted in this. Regardless, he was near top of the class in classes other than Defense for the first time.

Harry continued to use the Half-Blood Prince's book in potions, to the occasional ire of Hermione, who had finally given the book topic a rest when she found the argument about it paled in comparison to everything else that had, and was, happening in their lives. The only times she would bring up the book were when Harry pointed out a spell or incantation in the margins.

There was one spell amongst the group, besides the _Muffliato_ spell, that Harry wanted to test out. The incantation was '_Sectumsempra'_ and a little note beside it said 'for enemies'. Harry certainly had a lot of them and wondered if, or more accurately when, he would find himself in yet another confrontation with said enemies. Whether or not he would actually perform the spell, which Hermione warned him could be something Dark or deadly, to which Harry actually listened, was another matter entirely. He imagined finding himself with no alternative but to use the spell more than once when he found himself daydreaming. The results, though, were never clear in these reveries.

During the same period of time Harry's thoughts had sorted themselves out and he was able to recognize and understand everything in his mind once more. His sudden exhaustion, physically and mentally, had abated.

A fortnight went quickly, and Harry was at the helm of the DA once again. The following month went just as quickly for Harry, though not for everyone else who still had end of term exams or projects that needed to be completed.

In that sense he had offered to help Hermione with hers, despite knowing that theory, no matter how more focused he was, wasn't his forte. The studious Gryffindor politely declined, claiming that she enjoyed the satisfaction of completing each and every task on her own.

Hogwarts itself had changed dramatically in appearance in the last couple of weeks. Christmas trees, tinsel, baubles, ice sculptures and other assorted decorations for the winter holiday were erected. Peeves was up to his usual mischief this holiday season, managing to create an entirely original set of limericks and lyrics for the enchanted suits of armor to speak instead of the proper, programmed words. As a prefect, Harry was subjugated to the task of canceling the old lyrics and restoring the original ones, giving him plenty of contemplative time as the monotonous task became just that.

Over the last three weeks the inhabitants of Hogwarts had also changed. Without any homework or DA to keep Harry busy, he began to notice the subtle change in attitude in every student as the holidays drew nearer. There was a sudden rise in stress that led to a few arguments amongst the shorter tempered students as end of term exams or project dates drew nearer. After those there was a sudden change to happiness and excitement with little to no school work left between the students and Christmas time.

Very few students ventured outside at this point of the year. Various reasons explained that, including an increased amount of homework and assignments due, and the sheer coldness of the weather. Harry was quite content to lounge about in front of the fires the castle offered except for one or two odd occasions when he felt the need to move further than from class to class.

Since everyone had told him to take a break, he'd done exactly that. For once he didn't feel up to being stubborn and training in secret. Hermione and the rest knew of the existence of the Marauder's Map and Invisibility Cloak and would've found him out eventually if he snuck off to practice magic. He attended classes like normal, attended his extra lessons with Slughorn, McGonagall and Flitwick like normal and even performed near top of the class like his new normal. But he did rest and found himself sleeping better. 

He also spent his time just socializing with some of his new and old friends, something he had done not enough of. He got to know them more, and found that he got along better with certain people than others.

The break had done Harry some good. While fears of losing against Voldemort and getting his friends killed were not far from his mind, regardless of what anyone would ever say to him, the Gryffindor had been able to relax properly for the first time in weeks. Stress and his pain from all that had happened in the first term washed away slowly over the three weeks. It was a magnificent feeling, in Harry's opinion, to just sit down and relax, pushing the entire myriad of negative and war related thoughts in his head aside for a period, and get some rest and relaxation.

There were only three real noteworthy events that happened to Harry during the rest of the term outside of his extra work with McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn. Not even a week earlier Romilda Vane made an appearance and offered Harry some Gillywater, which he politely declined, followed by a box of cupcakes that were laced with Firewhiskey, apparently, a few days later. After hearing much of the gossip around the school thanks to Susan, Hannah and Katie, Harry was well aware that Romilda Vane was one of the many students contemplating using influencing potions on him. After everything that had happened, Harry held nothing but contempt for those that tried, but politely accepted the gift and tucked it away in a deep, dark corner of his trunk to dispose of at a later date, and resisted the urge to do anything less polite.

The second was Su Li. He and the extremely shy and silent girl had had their longest conversation to date one afternoon in the Owlery, as Harry was paying Hedwig a long overdue visit, a fortnight prior.

_Snow blanketed the landscape from one end of the mountains to the other. Every year it was the same, white from end to end of his sight lines. It was beautiful and haunting at the same. The striking whiteness of the snow covering up the landscapes worried him about what other secrets were out there that he should, and needed, to know._

_The inside of the Owlery was kept snow free and had constant Warming Charms on the walls to keep the owls from freezing. Hedwig was present and as soon as she caught sight of her master, she flew off her perch and landed gracefully on his outstretched arm. She playfully nipped at his clothes, a sign of affection he was familiar with._

_Harry sat down and, for some time, stroked Hedwig, occasionally mentioning to his familiar what was happening in his life at the moment. Hedwig, as always, listened intently, seemingly able to understand every word._

_After what felt like an hour, the sounds of snow crunching beneath boots hit Harry's ears above the din of the constant owl hooting._

_Harry looked up to see Su, her mid-length dark brown hair trailing behind her in the wind, standing at the doorway, looking up into the rafters in search of an owl. She spotted Harry a moment after he did her._

"_Hi Su," said Harry with a wave. Hedwig hooted a greeting and proceeded to fly over to Su and land on her shoulder. Su blinked rapidly at the sudden addition and sent Harry a questioning gaze._

"_She knows who you are, knows I trust you," Harry explained. "Su, this is Hedwig. Hedwig, Su."_

_Still slightly surprised at the owl, Su reached up, hesitated, and then gently stroked it. She smiled as the owl gave a quiet hoot in response to the treatment._

_Harry watched the two interact for a moment. He then shuffled over and offered Su a spot on the ground next to him._

_Taking up the offer, Su sat down beside Harry slowly, trying not to dislodge or frighten the snowy owl on her shoulder._

"_Have you not an owl of your own?" asked Harry, watching her hesitancy regarding his owl._

_Su shook her head._

"_Are you sending a letter to someone?" asked Harry again, maintaining his attention on her expressions, the only way he knew to understand her._

_Su scrunched her face up slightly and, after a moment, nodded._

"_Do you want to borrow Hedwig? I doubt she'd mind the trip."_

_Hedwig hooted in response and titled her head to the side. A second louder, sharper hoot sounded from above. Looking up, Harry saw the same brown owl as before watching Hedwig from a few meters up._

"_He doesn't quit, does he?" remarked Harry. Hedwig hooted several times in what he took to be frustration._

_To his surprise, Su laughed._

"_Your owl is having her own problems?" inquired Su in her ever quiet voice. "A tough term all round?"_

"_Seems so," responded Harry, not as surprised as he used to be about her voice. Harry hesitated and decided to act on his curiosity. "Can I ask you something personal?" he added seriously._

_For a long time, Su examined Harry, probably trying to discern his question. Then, getting her answer, she opened her mouth and spoke._

"_I –" Su began hoarsely. Immediately she paused, cleared her throat and resumed._

"_I don't talk much for a number of reasons, Harry," Su said, still quietly, but more coherently than ever before. "Padma, before now, is the only Hogwarts student that I converse with aloud regularly."_

"_Why?"_

_Su hesitated again. Harry, in a stroke of growing maturity and understanding of being around females, didn't press or back down and let her decide if she would respond or not._

"_My vocal chords never fully developed as a child," Su responded after a fashion, beginning to pet Hedwig again. With her other hand, she gently brushed her fingers over her throat. "I couldn't properly communicate verbally with anyone until I was nearly nine years old and after a long treatment. By then, I had become accustomed to communicating through facial expressions. I found that those who truly attempted to get to know me as a mute were the few people I could truly count as friends."_

"_Wasn't it lonely?"_

"_Of course," Su replied. She gently nudged Hedwig to relocate to her arm and withdrew a letter from a pocket in her robes. Harry offered his help to tie the note while Su held Hedwig. "I have had many acquaintances, though none I considered as real friends until Padma in my first year. She, despite me not speaking to her, continued to talk to me, even if it was only to tell someone of her troubles and tribulations. Sometimes it bothered me, others, not."_

_Harry mulled that over for a minute. Not being able to speak for years after everyone else could only have been a harsh experience. Like Dudley and his gang, there were probably similar types of bullies in her youth that did not make her situation any easier._

"_Hasn't that limited you a lot?" he eventually asked._

_Su frowned. "It what sense?"_

_Harry pondered that a moment. As he did, he leaned back, the note tied. "You could have had more friends… Maybe not as close as Padma and you, but still more than you have now."_

"_Perhaps," she conceded. "However, I do know that I can trust Padma. Knowing that I can count on her, and that she trusts me enough to tell me a lot of her secrets and fears… It is worth more than any acquaintance or distant friend ever would be."_

_Harry, in a way, could understand that mentality. He, after all, had stuck with a small group for five years, although he did have distant friends within his house. Hermione and Ron were always the closest and he had been content to have only two really close friends rather than one hundred distant ones._

"_And me?"_

"_What about you?" Su inquired. "I trust you. After Padma, and perhaps Luna, I believe you are my best friend. When you listen more than you speak, you can discern much about a person that you may not by asking questions. I can envision how you will move and react to certain pressures. I was not certain, but when you panicked that day, I believed you were under some influence. It seems I was right."_

_Harry blinked and turned away, attempting to prevent his mind from wandering down the Ginny path again. He dwelled on it still, though less and less as each day passed._

"_Sometimes I still surprise myself when I talk aloud," Su smiled in a manner eerily reminiscent of Luna. "I've become accustomed to not hearing my own voice."_

"_Hang on," said Harry suddenly, her statement registering but disregarded. "Couldn't Healers do anything to fix your vocal chords?"_

_Su let out a small smile. "That is a common misconception amongst everyone, Harry. Magic, especially in regards to healing, is not absolute. Magic does not fix everything and not everything can be done with magic. Quite a lot can be accomplished, but not everything."_

_That was news to Harry. Each time he was in need of medical assistance he always had a potion to drink to fix him right up. There were never any real complications._

"_So there are wizarding diseases that can't be cured?" asked Harry curiously. "Like a cancer for the wizarding world?"_

"_Not exactly, but yes, along those lines, that comparison is truth," Su agreed. "Most injuries caused by magic of the Dark Arts are irreparable or will leave permanent marks."_

"_What about Hermione's?"_

"_I do not know what spell she was hit with," Su admitted. "It also depends on how qualified Madame Pomfrey is at healing Dark Arts. From what I understand, Hermione did not spend time at St. Mungo's. Madame Pomfrey must be adequate enough, then."_

_Their conversation drifted off from there into less personal and thought provoking matters. It was strange to not have a one-sided conversation with the girl after so long. She had interesting tales to tell of what China, her homeland, was like._

_Before long, it was late afternoon and nearing dinner time. Together, the two sent Hedwig on her way. He would not expect her for a week if her trip was all the way to China and back, but that was alright. She needed a break and a tiring task. Harry's correspondence via the owl network had dried up due to either death or awkward situations._

That had been the sole occasion that Harry had maintained a conversation that was neither one-sided or consist of a few, contrite responses from the Asian girl. Padma had been surprised when Harry had informed her that Su had spoken to him, as it had taken her nearly all of their first year for a friendship to truly begin between the pair. For whatever reason, the girl seemed to become more talkative – nowhere near as much as anyone else amongst the group, but an improvement nonetheless – since that day.

More time passed, and the remainder of the term passed surprisingly quickly and uneventfully for Harry and his group. The only noteworthy aspects within his lessons were that he had begun learning Conjuration and Human Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, and learning to use a larger variety of spells as Professor Flitwick challenged Harry to multiple duels per evening where if he repeated a spell, he automatically lost. Frankly it was a good incentive, as Harry did not enjoy the idea of losing by default – his pride had a say in that. He was often lucky to escape without more than a bruise or two.

The night before the final day of term was the third interesting event.

Slughorn's Christmas Party was the event, the third noteworthy evening of the remainder of term. Harry and Hermione had been invited, with the option of taking guests if they wished. Harry had come across Luna earlier in the day and asked her to go with him before he even realized what he'd said. It seemed his promise to spend more time with the odd girl had sunk deeper into his personality than Harry had noticed.

Nonetheless, Luna was thrilled to bits and gave him an enthusiastic hug in response.

Hermione had ended up taking Neville with her, to keep the group together rather than due to any romantic feelings involved. Katie had not so subtlety shown displeasure with Hermione once she'd found out. This came as no surprise to either Harry or Hermione, both noticing several instances where the two of them had gotten rather close over the term. It was, however, more noticeable now for the gossipers.

The party was meant to be a laid back affair with drinks, dinner and conversation amongst the more up and coming students of Hogwarts, as was Slughorn's prerogative for the party. However, it turned out to be a dark night.

Initially Harry spent a good half an hour with Luna, Hermione, and Neville, just generally talking and mingling with some of the other guests. Although they all avoided Professor Trelawney when the four of them spotted her, were more than slightly shocked when Luna claimed Rufus Scrimgeour to be a vampire, and suffered through a battle of wills with Snape in front of Slughorn, the evening was enjoyable. But to top it all off, Malfoy was dragged into the room by Filch around two hours into the party. Apparently the Slytherin had been found in an upstairs corridor, supposedly attempting to sneak into the party, most likely because it hurt his pride to not be invited to somewhere that was considered high class, and had been caught. Slughorn gave him no punishment, saying that it was Christmas, much to the janitor's distaste.

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Luna watched the entire event from nearby; all focused on what the Slytherin was up to. Even Luna, who'd been on a high for much of the night in her excitement, was completely focused on the blonde teenager. They all knew that an upstairs corridor most likely meant the Room of Requirement.

The reactions of Malfoy and Snape were alarming to say the least, when Malfoy was allowed to join the party. Snape looked at Malfoy angrily… and possibly afraid, while Malfoy himself was not terribly excited with getting away without detention.

Leaving Neville and Luna behind, Harry and Hermione tailed Snape and Malfoy when they left under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, which he had kept with him whenever possible, to find the two arguing in an unused classroom, without a Silencing Charm.

Whatever Malfoy was up to, Snape was well aware of it. What was most disturbing was that Snape had given an Unbreakable Vow to Narcissa Malfoy to protect Malfoy.

There was more. Bellatrix had taught Malfoy some Occlumency, Malfoy supposedly had a plan to fulfill whatever job Voldemort had given to him, and Snape was practically begging Malfoy to let him help.

While Harry had suspected that Snape was working for Voldemort for some time, this certainly gave him more evidence than ever that he was. Hermione, for once, couldn't deny that Harry had misheard. She'd overheard the conversation just as well as Harry had. The words didn't lie.

What she did suggest was that it was all an act for Snape to find out what Malfoy was up to and put a stop to it. Admittedly, Harry thought that if Snape was indeed a spy, that situation was quite plausible. But Snape's attitude, his meetings with Malfoy, his switch from Dark to Light and the circumstances unknown to Harry, only aided and abetted the negative images of the man. Spy or not, without answers, Snape only seemed to find himself in a deeper hole, a hole that he might never escape from in Harry's mind.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was now Saturday the twenty-first of December and the official end of term was a mere hour away. Technically classes had ended the night or afternoon before, but term did not end until the train left from Hogsmeade.

Harry was dressed and waiting for eight a.m. to arrive, signaling the start of breakfast in his dorm room. With all that had happened, he was glad the term was finally at a close.

"…fast, Harry?" Neville was asking him.

"Hmm?" Harry replied distractedly. "Breakfast time? Let's go then." Slowly, to prevent lightheadedness, Harry got to his feet and adjusted his ruffled clothing. Nodding to himself, he followed Neville down the stairs into the common room and out the portrait hole.

"It's been one busy term, hasn't it?" Neville asked offhandedly as they made their way down the seven staircases between their dorm and the Great Hall.

Harry nodded in response and the two chit-chatted the rest of the way. A crowd of students were awaiting the two Gryffindors as they arrived at the Great Hall. This was the last meal many students might have at Hogwarts until the other end of the holidays, and for some, this would be their last. The train for London was leaving in three hours. Conversation amongst the students was vibrant, loud and energetic.

In addition with the start and end of term feasts, this was one of the few occasions throughout the year where every student was present in the Hall at one time, and that sometimes created congestion in the doorway, especially when people kept stopping to chat in the middle of the walkway in their excitement at the end of term and holidays. This was the situation that Harry and Neville found on arrival.

The two gradually made their way through the crowd. Some of the younger students found themselves staring as _the_ Harry Potter was standing behind them, mentioning the idiosyncrasies of their fellow students.

"Wish those idiots up ahead would quit blocking the way…" a voice beside Harry muttered to himself, barely audible over the din of dozens of voices.

Turning, Harry saw the origin of the voice was none other than Ron. Smiling part humorously and part grimly, he said, "Can't wait to dig in, Ron?"

"Bloody right I can't wait," he responded absently. Then he jumped and realized Harry was the one who'd spoken. "Erm, hey, Harry."

"Hello, Ron," Harry said tightly.

It had been almost six weeks now since Harry, Ron and Hermione had sat down and talked through what had happened between the three of them and Ginny. Ron had approached his two former friends a few days following Ginny's punishment being handed out. He was not angry, not at all. In fact, he had been downtrodden, solemn and apologetic.

He had requested to talk with them both in private. There was sincerity in his voice that could not be ignored, and the two had agreed on the condition that if he was asked to leave, to stop, or anything at all, he would comply without conflict or confrontation. Ron had complied with the condition instantly.

The two had chosen the dorms as the place to talk. Neville, Dean and Seamus were out and about, doing whatever it was that they did during their non-class times that didn't involve Harry in some way, shape or form.

"_Why, Ron?" Hermione asked pleadingly. "Why?"_

_Ron ducked his head, reddening. Harry could sense the shame he felt, but his sympathy was almost non-existent at this point. He was a silent a long time, until Harry lost his patience and pressed the issue._

"_Why didn't you tell us, Ron?" demanded Harry._

"_I was afraid. I was the one that put the spell on Hermione."_

_Harry looked to Hermione, who merely nodded at him slowly, confirming what she had already come to conclusions on, and looked back to Ron. "Why would you do that?" he asked coldly, resisting the urge to shout. How had it ever turned out like this? "One of your best friends … why do that to her?"_

_Ron took a breath, steeling himself for a huge admission. __"I only wanted to get you to notice me and nothing more. I wanted to be with you. And I didn't think I would unless you would focus on me. Using this worked out for Mum and Dad, and I thought... It was wrong. After casting the spell, I realized that I didn't want a magically influenced girlfriend. I needed to earn it. But I'd cast the spell already."_

"_However, I didn't even think it worked for the longest time. There was no visible reaction, and that was it. Nothing changed, except you did maybe show a little bit of interest. So, I left it alone. It wasn't until during last summer that I noticed that it had actually worked. I had a lot of time on my hands to think, see. You were less focused on Harry and more on me than I expected after, er, Sirius." Ron offered an apologetic look for bringing him up._

"_It took until the start of this term to again realize how wrong what I was doing was." Ron continued. "Since I didn't think it had worked before, I hadn't thought about it much. Anyway, there are spells that Healers use to try and force the mind to remember what they'd forgotten, or something like that." He added with a wave of his wand, "I don't get all that complex stuff."_

"_I've read about it." Hermione replied, confirming his story. Ron sent her a thankful look, but was met with impassive features in return._

"_Point is, I looked it up and used it on Hermione to try to get her memory to come back."_

"_Then why didn't you remove the spell too?" Harry asked, dumbfounded. Hermione was asking herself the same question._

_Ron blushed scarlet, and scratched his nose distractedly. "Um… I didn't – don't know it – how to do it." Harry sighed deeply and continued to resist an urge, this time to strangle his former friend._

"_I couldn't find the spell in the library, either. I spent a lot of time searching after… well, you know," Ron added._

"_And you didn't think to tell us so we could find it ourselves?"_

"_Ginny found out first and she wouldn't let me," Ron admitted dejectedly. "It's no excuse."_

"_No, it isn't."_

_Ron didn't deny it._

"_I couldn't ask Ginny for it; because she wasn't speaking to me when she found out I was backing out." Ron blanched as he remembered the next part. "Then I changed my mind again a week later. That's when I asked you, Harry, if Hermione liked me or not. For awhile it seemed like it would be fine but then Hermione couldn't bring herself to snog – uh – kiss me when we were alone."_

"_But by then it was too late." Hermione said softly. "I'd already started losing interest, and then you pushed me too far."_

"_Yeah."_

_The three of them were silent for a long moment._

"_I'm surprised Ginny got off with as little as she did," Ron mentioned. "Mum and Dad weren't too happy with her, or me, either."_

"_I would expect as much, considering she told you and Ginny the spell." Harry replied scathingly, giving Hermione a furtive glance. She was watching Ron carefully, and maintained her silence._

_Ron flinched slightly at the tone but did not add anything to further stoke the fires._

_Harry and Hermione exchanged a look and came to a decision silently._

"_We want this to end," Hermione informed Ron._

"_She looked pretty messed up when she was packing her stuff up from what some of the other fifth year girls told me," Ron told Harry._

"_We'll leave Ginny alone as long as she leaves us alone," Harry replied slowly. "Make sure she remembers that. Some aren't convinced she's done."_

"_No problem, Harry."_

_Another silence followed._

"_And me?" inquired Ron hesitantly. He grimaced. "I'd like a forewarning if I'm going to get the same treatment."_

_Harry sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing them._

"_We're not friends anymore," Hermione continued bluntly. Ron half-flinched at her tone, but could not deny her statement as naught but accurate._

"_I think I understand why you did it, Ronald," Hermione went on sadly. "But that doesn't make it any better."_

_Ron swallowed and nodded._

"_Same conditions as Ginerva, Ronald, we won't do anything, won't bring it up or take it any further if you don't. Otherwise, God save you, you _will_ regret it."_

"_Yes ma'am," Ron replied automatically. Harry was tempted to smile._

_A few more words were exchanged until Ron left Harry and Hermione alone a few minutes later._

"_Are you sure this is what you want?" asked Harry, turning on the bed to face her directly._

"_I don't know," Hermione shook her head in response. "I just want to focus on work and the DA and not have this hanging over my head anymore. I just want to move on and be close again."_

_Harry nodded in understanding and agreement._

"_Then let's leave it as is."_

And they had.

Harry carefully examined Ron, attempting to discern whether hostility, warmth or apathy would be the order of the day.

"Glad term is over?" asked Ron, testing the waters.

"You could say that," Harry replied with a trace of bitterness in there that had slipped through, though the question itself was not a good conversation starter. Ron caught the tone and opted to not speak again.

Neville tapped Harry on the shoulder and whispered, "This isn't my place to say this, and I realise exactly what he's done, but he's been pretty messed up about this."

"I know," Harry replied in a low voice that only Neville could hear. He was not unaware of that fact – they slept in the same room, after all. "Maybe after the holidays we can get along better. But I doubt it. For now, I can't go around treating him the way I used to. Things are different. He betrayed both our trusts, and right now, that's one of the most important things. Okay?"

"Just saying," responded Neville with a shrug. "You told me he said that he didn't ask or expect you to forgive him, but that doesn't stop him from wanting it. He'd probably have a go with a dragon to earn at least a few points in your book."

Harry nodded but did not respond. He wasn't anywhere near ready to forgive him. Maybe one day he could, maybe not. But it definitely wasn't today.

Finally the crowed thinned enough for Harry, Neville and Ron to squeeze through and take seats at the Gryffindor table – Ron further up the table than Harry and Neville. As if by telepathy, Katie, Susan, Hannah, Padma, Su and Ernie drifted over to sit with Harry in the next minute.

While piling his plate with food, Harry realized that this was the last gathering they would be having until term started up again. Out of the entire DA, only Daphne and Padma were remaining behind in addition to Harry and Hermione. Susan and Hannah were going to spend the holidays at Hannah's house, Padma and Parvati were remaining at Hogwarts despite their parent's wishes for reasons he didn't feel comfortable pursuing. Su, Ernie, Neville and Katie were going to spend time with their families and Luna was apparently going to help her dad with a series of Quibbler articles encompassing creatures spotted inside Hogwarts that, to nobody's surprise, no one knew of.

At the start of the year Harry expected he would be spending this time at the Burrow or Grimmauld Place. With the way things stood between Ron, Ginny and himself, the Burrow was completely out of the question, and he'd heard not a word from Dumbledore to let him know to be prepared for the train ride home. When McGonagall sent the list for those who were staying to sign, she hadn't said a word when he added his name, so it was a safe assumption his Christmas would be a Hogwarts one.

Hermione was staying to keep Harry company over the break. Despite Harry diplomatically telling her to get lost and spend time with her parents, Hermione remained steadfast in her decision. Deep down Harry might have thought it was because Hermione was still afraid of something happening to him and them in general while she was gone, but Harry was happy to have her around and left his thoughts at that.

The breakfast was a grand fair, like a miniature feast. The house-elves outdid themselves with the variety and quality of dishes. Sitting down with his friends, Harry was able to relax and enjoy himself like he used to before the Tri-Wizard Tournament stole away his relatively peaceful existence. All thoughts of keeping his friends a secret had gradually dissipated throughout the term, finally disappearing altogether at this last meal before most students left for break. They were going to be in danger regardless of their connection to Harry and like they all had said, they were able to take care of themselves now.

Hermione had arrived shortly after Harry and had been rather subdued. She said she would explain after the meal and proceeded to act more normally. Harry pushed the thoughts from his mind and enjoyed himself.

All of his friends, minus Daphne for obvious reasons, though Harry honestly did regret that fact, were seated with him and Harry raised his glass, capturing the attentions of the other nine.

"I've never done one of these before – never had a reason, mind you – so, all I'll say is this; to a better tomorrow."

"Cheers!"

An hour later, Harry and Hermione were seated on Harry's bed again, with the curtains closed around them and the usual spells ensuring their privacy. Between the two was the pensieve.

Hermione had explained that she had had a few more dreams over the past few weeks and that they were finally complete. She insisted he witness the memory as well, for the effects did carry over to Harry, and from a sense of repaying a debt for asking Harry for one of his private memories.

It was a conversation between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. The matriarch was extremely interested in her relationship with Ron, and not so subtly hinted that she would like the two to get together.

The conversation ended soon, and Hermione left the kitchen of Grimmauld Place to her room. A few seconds after she closed it, the door opened again and she heard the incantation of the spell. It had been Ron's voice. The last thing Hermione remembered was Ron and Mrs. Weasley standing together. Then, the memory ended.

"I never pictured Mrs. Weasley encouraging something like that," Harry said, both disgusted and amazed at the same time.

"Neither had I," Hermione replied in a similar fashion. Her hand was clutching at her chest, where the spell had struck her.

Harry noticed the reaction, reached and grasped her hand in his.

"It's over." Harry stated confidently. "It'll be nothing but a bad memory." He then grimaced and added as an afterthought, "'suppose we have quite a few of those now…"

Hermione smiled at his half-hearted attempt at humor, something that often worked wonders to cheer a person up. He was right. Hence forth, it was to be a bad memory and nothing more.

The two discussed the memory for a short time, contemplating why Mrs. Weasley would encourage the use of the spell, whether they should press the situation on her, whether Mr. Weasley knew and whether he was under it himself. They came to the conclusion that the use of the spell had been restricted to the two youngest children, who had now understood their mistakes and would not repeat them. Perhaps Mrs. Weasley had used it to gain Mr. Weasley's attention, but he had never shown any symptoms.

Hermione had tentatively mentioned Bill and Fleur and whether the same could be said for them. Harry denied the possibility. Fleur, given her questionable actions, would not have considered kissing him, let alone actually done it, had she been under a similar enchantment.

That had brought the conversation to a close. At some point during the talk Harry had removed his hand, their friendship far better than it had been a month prior but still lacking the closeness they once had. Harry stood silently and offered his hand to Hermione, who grasped it and stood as well. The two of them smiled slightly to each other and walked towards the door.

With a quiet click, the door to the sixth year's boys dormitory closed, ending the entire affair for good.

The majority, if not every last one, of the students of Hogwarts were outside or inside the station at Hogsmeade either leaving or bidding goodbye to their friends until they saw each other again in a few weeks. The scene that Harry and Hermione found contrasted considerably to their serious conversation only fifteen minutes prior. The contrast, however, lifted their mood drastically.

Predictably there were many hugs and kisses exchanged among the gathered. Some girls went the extra mile and started tearing up on the shoulders of friends they were leaving behind. Oddly some of the shoulders were of friends who were returning to Kings Cross with them too. Go figure.

Susan and Hannah found Harry and Hermione first, standing by one of the benches that were filled with the trunks and cages for owls or cats, or in a very few students' cases, toads. The two of them were dressed in woolen coats and caps, complete with ear flaps. A cold breeze blew through the station to illustrate the need for the clothing. Harry shivered slightly and looked up at the sky. There were clouds everywhere, another snowfall imminent.

"Looks like this where we part for 1996, Harry," Hannah said once they had dodged around the many other students to reach the two Gryffindors.

"Unlike every other year, we can actually look forward to spending more time with you in the New Year," Susan added with a coy grin. She then proceeded to give him a hug goodbye.

Harry, finally starting to get used to the teasing the two of them were so adept at, failed to submit to them with a blush this time. After an entire term with the pair, Harry was well aware that many sentences they used could become double entendres or contained some not-so-subtle alternate meanings.

"That depends on what type of 'spending time with me' you'd be after," Harry replied, unable to resist responding.

Both girls blinked in surprise. Hermione was struggling not to laugh from Harry's right.

"Bad move." Hermione shook her head and taking a step aside.

The two Hufflepuffs grinned evilly and the both of them took a step closer and grabbed each of his hands that were by his side.

"Oh, I'm certain you can use your imagination to find the right answer," Hannah whispered into his ear. Harry shuddered, and not from the cold.

"I think you'll find the answer quite clear when you open our present," Susan whispered into his other ear.

The two of them took a step back and were rewarded with a furiously blushing Harry. Laughing joyously, the two of them hugged Harry in turn, then Hermione and bade them farewell, before making their way through the crowd to the train.

"Your reaction was priceless, Harry," Hermione laughed gently, something she had not done enough of in recent times.

Harry mock glared at her, crossing his arms over his chest in a huff. This only gave Hermione more to laugh at. Resigning himself to the situation, Harry chuckled as well. He'd walked straight into that, after all.

The next to find them was Ernie.

"Appears this is where we part, Harry, old chap, and Hermione." Ernie nodded at Harry, and then Hermione. "Keep yourselves well."

"Make sure you have a good time, Ernie," Harry replied, shaking his hand. "When term starts again, we'll be busy again."

"I can guarantee you I will," Ernie replied, retracting his hand and reaching down to pick us his trunk again. He hesitated. "I apologize for my attitude this term," he added sincerely. "I have been rather unpleasant to be around, I imagine. I felt I could do everything after how well we blew through our work last year. I'll try not to let it happen again."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Have a good Christmas, Ernie." He wasn't sure what else to add.

Ernie nodded in response. "And the same to you two. Cheerio, Harry, Hermione,"

And with that, Ernie made his way to board the train. Harry and Hermione saw Padma and Su approaching them a minute later.

"Have a wonderful Christmas, Su," Harry said brightly as the two reached them. Su looked at Padma, passed off her belongings and gave Harry a brief hug with a quiet whisper of 'you too' in his ear. Harry only realized just how short Su was then, when her head only made it to his collar bone as she stood on tip-e-toes to reach his ear.

Releasing Harry, Su gave Hermione a similar hug before gathering her belongings and heading off towards the train.

"Think she'll ever have a regular conversation with everyone aloud?" Harry asked Padma quietly. "I mean, she can cast spells silently pretty well and all, but none of us know anything about her except she's Chinese, sixteen and doesn't talk much. Good reason aside."

"I don't know much more than that either, Harry," Padma replied, watching Su's form board the train. "I honestly can't give you a proper answer about that. With how she grew up, she's more than likely to remain a listener. But I do not mind."

Harry was far off in thought for a minute before Hermione poked him in the side. He looked at Hermione darkly before she pointed to his other side. Neville and Katie were walking towards them.

"Neville," Harry nodded, his arms folded again, keeping the cold away from his chest area.

"Harry, Padma, Hermione," Neville addressed the three of them. "Have a good time you three."

"You too," the three of them chorused at the same time, looked at each other and shrugged. Neville laughed, shook Harry's hand, gave Hermione a brief hug and waved at Padma before he made his way to the train.

"See you all next term," Katie said simply, before making her way to the train.

The three watched the girl leave, all three of them slightly miffed at the brief exit … at least that was until Katie turned around and yelled out, "Remember to practice, Potter! I expect us to kick Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw just as much!"

A series of boos, jeers and cheers arose from those within earshot. Katie, smiling broadly, waved and boarded after Neville.

Harry, Hermione and Padma waved back and chatted amongst themselves for several minutes before Luna joined them. She was wearing her regular Hogwarts robes, but had her glasses again. Her wand was behind her ear and her hair was colored like Harry's skin had been earlier in the year once she'd been through with him.

"Drackle's around?" she asked brightly, searching the station furiously, her rainbow colored hair creeping more than one student out.

"Drackle?" Hermione and Padma inquired at the same time, recoiling at the appearance the Ravenclaw had. When the world had she done that?

"They're a little pygmy looking creature that causes mild confusion," Luna replied, undeterred by the odd looks she was receiving for her appearance. She then added, disheartened, "Since you appear focused now, they must be long gone."

Ignoring her odd remarks, Harry bade her farewell and wished her luck with the Quibbler. Luna hugged all three of them and boarded the train a minute later.

The three of them stood together in silence, watching as the last of the students boarded the train. A loud toot and steam that filled the air signaled the last minute warning. Two fourth year Hufflepuffs boarded the train a moment later and the doors closed behind them.

A minute later the train pulled out from the station, gradually picking up speed. The sounds of students cheering, screaming to friends over the loud steam engine and many shouted goodbyes filled the air as the Hogwarts Express traveled away from what many considered a second home.

As the train rounded the corner, Harry, Hermione and Padma turned back to the gates of Hogwarts. The memories of what had passed in the last three months were pushed to the back of their minds. They were ready to celebrate their own Christmas together in whatever tranquility could still be found in the wizarding world.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N:** The most complaints about this were about the leniency towards Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, and Harry's reaction. Harry wants it done with, to fix his friendships and move on. Dumbledore is a tolerant person, and Ginny is a part of the Weasley family, whom he no doubt owes a lot too given their support and assistance. You'll discover Mrs. Weasley's punishment around Easter in the story. Ginny will have a role to play in Seventh Year. But she's pretty much completely absent for the rest of Sixth.


	15. One Big Holiday

A/N: Song title comes from the US psychedelic rock band 'My Morning Jacket'. Their third and fourth albums 'It Still Moves' and 'Z' are fantastic, while the new one, 'Evil Urges', was pretty unsatisfying.

Thanks heaps to my beta chem prof for being the helpful, friendly guy he is.

_**Chapter 15**__**: One Big Holiday**_

The days before Christmas Eve were some of the slowest and most peaceful of Harry's year to date. Harry had spent a lot of his time alone in his dormitory. His four roommates had all gone home for the holidays. It was a strange feeling to wake up in a room with five beds, usually filled with loud snoring or obnoxious discussions, or even the tense atmosphere that had laced the room for most of the term, to find himself alone. While Harry didn't mind the rest and relaxation he could gain from his temporary freedom from his roommates, there was always a sense of something missing in the dorm.

Hermione and Padma understood Harry's desire for alone time to some extent. The three of them still sat and talked together at mealtimes. Due to the war, most students were forced home by their parents – muggleborn, half-blood or pureblood, it didn't matter. Consequently, the house tables were done away with in favour of a single, long table for all students to sit at. Although this made all four houses sit at the same table, each house minus Harry, Hermione and Padma, sat, for the most part, separately. There were a few other students that had broken the unspoken rules and gained friends in other houses. Times like these were perfect to interact with members of other houses without appearing out of the ordinary. Appearances, though, were still everything, especially to Gryffindors and Slytherins, and the majority of the remaining students remained in their house groups.

The reason for Harry wanting time to himself was so he could think about the first term and the direction of his future. Introspection had almost been forced upon him in the aftermath with Ginny and her spells.

There was his personality.

Lying alone in those many hours at Privet Drive after the Department of Mysteries, sleepless night after sleepless night, Harry had come to many conclusions. The first and foremost was the need for things to change. He could no longer sit idly by and take what was thrown his way when it came. He needed to better himself, magically and as a person, to be able to withstand any further, and likely considerably worse, clashes with the Death Eaters and/or Voldemort. He couldn't allow himself to be so outmatched again. A considerable amount of luck had allowed him to survive that ordeal, and watching Dumbledore and Voldemort duel, he truly realized this time how outmatched he was. That had to change.

On that front, he was partially succeeding. Thanks to Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall, Harry was a far more accomplished duellist than he was at the start of the year.

As a person, he wasn't so sure.

Maturity in part meant becoming an adult, throwing aside the immaturities of youth and accepting your responsibilities. On some aspects that had happened, others, not so much.

Ron and Ginny had changed somewhere along their paths, for whatever reason. Ron had done what he had thought he needed to do, and Ginny had done what she believed was alright to do. It did not redeem either of them, and perhaps nothing ever could or would.

There was more than one occasion where Harry felt like he should have done more in terms of punishment for Ginny. Then there were times when he was glad that the path that been chosen had in fact been chosen. What would have happened if he had pushed further? Would Ginny have been suspended, expelled, or perhaps even imprisoned? The latter was unlikely. Neither Harry nor Hermione fancied sitting in front of a crowd of outsiders, the majority of which had it out for Harry, to detail sections of their lives they'd rather keep to themselves. On the other hand, having her suspended or expelled was perhaps a valid option after all. But, in the end, Ginny was no longer capable of attempting anything further from her position, had she even the desire to.

Unsurprisingly, the gossip network of Hogwarts had immediately hooked onto Ginny's sudden removal from Gryffindor Tower. No one was quite certain where her new quarters were or the reasons. Rumours quickly spread, however, that she had cast an illegal spell, which was true. The spell itself was where they differed extremely. A few students had even hinted at the use of an Unforgivable. A lot of Ginny's friends in Gryffindor had become wary of her and had sat apart from her in the closing days of the term.

Looking around the silent, empty dormitory, Harry let his thoughts drift. Hermione was probably downstairs or up in her dorm either reading or contemplating her last term in a manner similar to his own. While only eleven Gryffindors had actually stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas break, Hermione had the unfortunate situation of both Parvati and Lavender remaining at school, so she had no respite from her overzealous roommates.

Padma over the past three days had become gradually more and more subdued and quiet at mealtimes. Why, Harry didn't know for sure. It looked, from what he could tell, like it had something to do with her sister. They rarely spoke to each other. There were, though, a small number of moments where they did share conversation, except it was merely civil and seemed forced, and not close and friendly like Harry would have expected. Harry thought about raising his hand about it, but if Padma wanted to talk about it with him, he believed she would approach him.

Harry sat up in bed and leant down to grab a hold on his trunk, heaving it onto the bed, causing the mattress to bounce. He wanted to find something.

Clothes, muggle and wizard styles, took up a fair bit of the used up room inside. Beside them was his Invisibility Cloak, which he had taken to keeping on his person more often than not in case of an emergency, the Firebolt, various knick knacks that a person usually owned, and one other set of items of interest. That set of items was the silverware that Dung had stolen and Harry had retrieved from the thief. Amongst them was a golden locket that he did not know what to make of.

Harry withdrew the locket and leant back into his pillows, dangling it in front of his face by the chain. It was gold collared, surprisingly heavy and had an S carved into the outside of the locket. For several minutes, Harry stared at the locket, trying to determine its purpose. Was it an initial? Slytherin was the obvious name that came to mind. Was it Slytherin's or someone else's entirely? Why was it so different from all the other Black items, and if it really were someone else's, why did the Blacks have it? Although it looked as if it would be completely at home in the Dark house, there was something… off, more so than usual, and… unsettling about it.

Gathering the chain up into his hand, Harry laid the locket on his open palm. He'd seen this thing before, he was sure of it, but when? Dung stole it from Grimmauld Place so that meant it came from there. Had he seen it there during his summer?

The answer was yes. Harry remembered it several moments later, the locket that nobody could open when the lot of them cleaned out Grimmauld Place during his summer before fifth year. It had been discarded, bagged up and left in the attic. Why was Dung searching the attic where all the Dark items were kept? Some of that stuff was immensely dangerous. All the safe items were kept in the house where they were before, unless they were used for meals. That was unless someone had removed the item from the attic and kept it downstairs?

Harry felt himself getting paranoid again and tried to shake it off. Paranoia wasn't productive, nor was it relaxing. Harry reached for his wand and placed the locket before him on his bed covers. When he first had gotten the locket he'd tried to open it to no avail. He had no expectations that this time would be any different, but it was worth a shot. His curiosity left him unable to just walk away without attempting it at least once.

A simple _Alohamora_ proved to be useless, not that anything of value could truly be kept safe if that first year spell could open up the area where the object was hidden. Robbing Gringotts would be surprisingly easy if that was the case.

But what else was there? Even though Harry had reread his school work books from the first year through to fifth, there were very few spells that opened locked doors or items.

_Aperio_, literally meaning 'open', didn't work either. What was keeping this thing closed was more advanced magic than Hogwarts seemed to provide, or that he'd discovered so far. That only made Harry more curious.

Staring intently at the locket, Harry pondered what other alternatives there could be. Spells designed to open or unlock doors were useless. He needed to know what kind of magic was keeping the jewellery shut and he could work from there.

He didn't know how to find that out though. Harry contemplated what he could do for several minutes, and in the end he chose to question Hermione about opening the locket. Sighing, Harry threw the locket back in his trunk with the silver utensils, goblets and other assorted items that Dung had stolen. A minute later, his trunk was back on the floor and Harry was out the door, keen to talk to Hermione, and Padma, to discuss the locket over lunch. It was only once Harry had arrived at the Great Hall that he realized that whatever mysteries the locket held would have to put on the backburner for the time being.

The single, hall length table was mostly empty, it being early for lunch time, though Harry, Hermione and Padma had designated a time to meet each day so they could eat together. Daphne had refused to sit with them as there were Slytherins present.

As Harry crossed the through the large doors between the Entrance and Great Halls, Harry saw that today was no different in that respect. What was different, though, was the tense atmosphere inside the Great Hall.

Padma and Hermione were already there, seated and waiting for him. Their attention, on this occasion, was elsewhere. He stopped walking and watched the two of them for a moment. Padma was alternating between staring at her food or staring somewhere up the other end of the table. Harry followed her gaze to find Parvati, seated beside Lavender, staring back distastefully. Lavender looked as bewildered as Harry felt. He glanced back to Hermione, who was looking between the two of them worriedly.

_Just what did I miss?_

Glancing quickly at the other nine that were in the Hall as well, Harry saw that their attentions were divided between their separate conversations and the twin sisters. Harry moved again and tentatively sat down next to Hermione, across from Padma.

"What's going on?" Harry whispered, startling Hermione.

Padma didn't react or reply. Hermione glanced between the twin sisters again before focusing on Harry. Leaning in close, she whispered, "We were coming back from the library – don't give me that look," she scolded seeing Harry's look of disbelief. It was nearly Christmas. You weren't meant to spend time in a library on Christmas Eve.

Hermione elaborated, seeing Harry wasn't quite ready to drop it. "We were researching detection spells for magic on us and magic around us."

Harry's mouth formed an 'o' as the implications set in. "Good idea," he conceded.

Hermione gave him a half-hearted withering look. "As I was saying, on the way back from the library we passed Parvati and Lavender. Padma tried to talk to Parvati…"

"But?" pressed Harry.

A troubled sigh followed. "Just summarizing what happened, Parvati gave the impression she wanted nothing to do with her sister anymore," Hermione elaborated in a rush.

Alarmed, Harry whirled around to look at Padma and then Parvati. Both twins were too absorbed in each other to respond to his silent examination.

"Why?"

Hermione bit her lip and glanced between the two sisters again. Harry followed suit. Padma leant her chin against her hand, her eyes on Harry. She sighed.

"Ginny and my sister became friendly around the time we think you were hit with that spell," Padma deadpanned. Harry tried to hide his surprise; he'd figured Padma wasn't listening to his conversation with Hermione.

"I hoped it was a coincidence," Padma admitted. She took another bite of a salad she didn't taste. "But her reaction isn't offering me comfort. What do you make of it?"

Harry and Hermione didn't immediately respond or even attempt to. Padma took a deep breath, still awaiting a response, and then swallowed and sighed. It took Harry several moments to understand that their lack of response had given her the confirmation she hadn't wanted.

A few months before, Harry had sat down with Padma and briefly talked about Parvati. It was back then that he had first taken interest in the Patil twins. Also, it was back then he realized that they had drifted apart. Padma still cared deeply for Parvati despite this. Presently, Padma did not want to lose what dregs of a relationship remained between them. Being separated by House, and unfavourable Houses at that – Ravenclaws usually had double classes with Hufflepuffs – meant they rarely saw each other, let alone sat down and bonded as sisters. Especially in these years, the years where you started to become who you would be, and underwent changes in the mental and physical states. These were the years where people could and would change from month to month, week to week, day to day.

For a moment, Harry considered telling Padma to let it go, to not confront her sister. But he understood that she would always remember her sister upon her actions here, like he with Ron. And also like he with the entire spell mess, she needed closure. The only way that was going to come to her was if she did confront Parvati.

"Getting closure is important," Harry said softly so only Padma and Hermione heard him. "Trust me; I have more experience than I'd like."

Padma nodded in acknowledgement.

"Can I-we do anything?" asked Harry, nodding to the almost forgotten Hermione beside him. He wasn't sure what he could do but he felt the need to do something. Padma had helped him when he needed it and, even if she weren't a friend, he owed her one.

"I don't know." Padma shook her head. She reached out and traced a strand of her hair from the top to the bottom and gently moved it out of her face and behind her ear. Harry had seen the movement before; it was something she did when she was in deep thought.

"I don't know what to do, what to say, when to do or say it," Padma sighed. "I apologize; Harry, Hermione, but you can't understand how difficult it is to hate a sibling, especially a twin. How do you even instigate a fight? Ugh, I hate this."

"I think you should just ask her directly," Hermione offered. Padma faced her, surprised and slightly ashamed to have neglected asking her input thus far.

"Walk up to her and ask?" she rhetorically asked. She shook her head again. "I don't know. I don't know how to deal with this."

Harry screened his mind in the hopes of finding something wise and useful to say and add to no avail. All his arguments just… _happened_.

"Let's talk to her after everyone leaves then," Harry said, laying his knife and fork to rest, uninterested in eating anymore. "If you want, we, or one of us, can be there. Don't know what use we'd be…"

"Harry," Padma said, slowly, surprised. "Thank you."

Harry shrugged off the appreciation. The three of them returned to a silence, not uncomfortable but not comfortable either.

Harry had to wonder why Parvati hadn't started something yet, and better yet her motives for, if she had, becoming involved with Ginny. More than three weeks had passed since the end of the spell mess and she, if she were involved, had done nothing about messing with him. He honestly knew nothing about Parvati being involved besides seeing her and Ginny together, a sight that he had seen only on occasion years prior. It wasn't much. But Padma seemed convinced.

"Harry," Padma said suddenly. Harry, who had been staring off into the distance for the past couple of minutes, snapped back to attention. Padma looked away, her usual confidence absent, and quietly said, "Out of everyone involved, you have the most right to know what happened. Parvati …" she paused, sighed and then stared deep into Harry's green eyes, her own brown ones revealing more about her than her words. They were troubled, fearful and … there was acceptance in there. "…was likely involved or knew what Ginny was doing. I don't doubt it anymore; it's one or the other. Could you… would you be there?"

"Of course," Harry replied immediately, a little surprised at being asked.

"And you, Hermione?"

"Of course," replied Hermione, the same for her.

Maybe Padma didn't believe she could do this alone. Maybe Padma didn't believe she would accept everything she was told if there wasn't someone else there to hear it as well. Maybe Padma didn't believe she would be able to go through with it if there wasn't someone there reminding her of what the stakes had been.

Whatever the reason, she had asked. But before anything more could be discussed on the subject, the second of two unexpected events that day began.

"Oi, Patil!" a voice called out, interrupting the near silence in the Great Hall.

Whatever chatter was present died down immediately. The entire hall turned to find the source of the voice. To everyone's surprise, especially Harry, Hermione and Padma, a dozen seats down was Daphne Greengrass staring back at them, a malicious smirk on her face. There were five other Slytherins seated around her, including Nott and Parkinson – Malfoy had disappeared for the holidays, to Harry's surprise and disappointment, as he had been hoping to corner him with the school less crowded and get answers.

Nott and Parkinson were watching the proceedings with intense interest.

Padma, Hermione and Harry were silent, confused. In such a public setting, they'd never exchanged any words. And it had been Daphne, the one who had warned the rest that she wanted no one to speak to her in public, to instigate.

"Trouble between the brains and fashion queen are there?" Daphne continued amusedly, leaning her chin on her hand, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should kiss and make up? Isn't that what twins do alone? Or is that what the problem is? Not getting enough, being separated at Hogwarts and all?"

A stunned silence followed before a series of near-inaudible murmurings filtered up and down the table. Padma was watching her verbal assailant with shock. She wasn't alone in it either. Harry was staring at Daphne, stunned.

"Daphne!" Hermione exclaimed. The whole Hall had quieted, watching the events unfold. "What –"

"– Shut it, Granger." Daphne cut across harshly. "If I was talking to you … no wait, I don't ever want to talk to you. Never mind." There were a few guffaws from the other two Slytherins that Harry wasn't familiar with, and smirks from the more familiar ones. Any pot-shot at Hermione was amusing to them, really.

Hermione clenched her hand on her fork. She, being the one that suggested Daphne's involvement, had put her faith in her. Seeing and hearing this, she was hurt, deeply hurt by Daphne's words, coming from someone she held faith in, and, frankly, her case that there were Slytherins out there worth knowing.

"What do you want Daphne?" Padma replied coldly, her eyes hard. Harry had never seen such coldness in Padma before.

"Oh nothing in particular," Daphne replied with a careless wave of her other hand. "Can't a person just _talk_?"

"They can when they are civilized," Padma shot back.

_This isn't good._ Harry thought hurriedly. _Daphne picked a really bad time to pick a fight. This is going to get out of hand quickly if this doesn't end now._

"Civilized?" Daphne said, mock surprised. "Me, not civilized? It's you, Indians, that aren't civilized. You may be pureblood, but you're nothing better than a mud…"

"Quiet!" Harry bellowed, slamming his hands onto the table, his plates and glass clattering from the vibrations, and standing. He glared at Daphne with enough anger to rival even her infamous glares. For a moment, Harry swore he saw a flicker of apprehensiveness cross Daphne's eyes. It was that made him hesitate and gave Daphne the time to collect herself.

"Same with Granger, Potter," Daphne said far quieter, but no less unkind than before. "This doesn't concern you, no matter how cosy you two have been lately. Stay out of it."

"What's your problem, Daphne?" said Harry angrily. "What the hell did we – or Padma – ever do to you?"

Daphne sent Harry a condescending glower. Harry didn't back down, staring back just as intently. Her mouth opened, as if about to say something, then closed a moment later. Harry noticed and was only further confused by it.

Daphne licked her lips and tossed her hair aside in a careless gesture, choosing her words carefully before speaking. "It's more the fact you exist –" replied Daphne eventually.

"– Don't give me that." Harry cut across. He stepped over his bench, keeping his eyes on the blonde, and made his way past several wide-eyed students, who turned to keep them in their eyesight. But before he'd even gotten five steps he was interrupted.

"Mr. Potter!" a shrill voice called out. The entire Hall turned to face the table at the head of the room. Standing there was Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies teacher, eyeing Harry closely. "That's enough. I let this continue in the hopes that you students could sort your own arguments. Clearly I can't count on you lot for some simple maturity."

She walked around the table, her every movement expressing disapproval, and made her way level to Harry. Up close, she was shorter than the still growing Boy-Who-Lived. "After what has happened to you and Ms. Granger, I expected better behaviour." 

Harry had the fight the urge to snap back. He wasn't going to attack Daphne… at least he would only to it verbally.

Professor Burbage faced the rest of the students. "Finish your meals and be on your way. It's almost Christmas for Merlin's sake. Try and be cheery."

Burbage sent Harry one last warning glance before returning to the head table. A Professor always sat in on meals. After more than five years at Hogwarts, one could forget the presence of the Professor when in the Great Hall, especially one normally as quiet and withdrawn from common sight as Burbage was.

The anger felt had mostly dissipated with the interruption; Harry faced Daphne again to find her already getting up and leaving with the rest of the Slytherins.

He stood there, watching her leave without a second glance. What had just happened? It was true that they hadn't truly spoken since the last DA meeting he went to … so what had happened in the past month that caused this change?

Harry about-faced to look at Padma and Hermione to see if they had any answers. The two of them were just as surprised and shocked as he was. The only consolation was that he had missed nothing by being an absentee.

Harry slumped back into his seat beside Hermione and sat there in deep thought. His mind played out a dozen ideas, each more unlikely than the next and all stemming from Daphne betraying them. Again, he was missing something, something important that explained everything. He was really beginning to hate that feeling.

He couldn't get to her now, not with a half dozen Slytherin entourage. He'd find the right time later. Right now he had to deal with Padma and Parvati.

A few more people left the Great Hall. Parvati and Lavender finished and left too, passing by Harry, Hermione and Padma without some much as a glance.

"I want to deal with this now," Padma said softly once the other two had passed. Harry and Hermione nodded.

The three of them stood, extracted themselves from the benches and followed the two Gryffindors out. It took a minute to catch up.

"Parvati," Padma called out calmly, diplomatically. "A word, please."

Lavender stopped and glanced between the twins with confusion written all over her face. Parvati hadn't stopped, and Harry had to wonder what Parvati hoped to achieve by acting as such.

"Hermione, it might be best if you take Lavender with you," Padma suggested in a no nonsense voice, not taking her eyes off Parvati for a moment.

Hermione walked past Padma and gently directed Lavender away, whispering to her as she did. Harry watched the two leave, Lavender glancing between Parvati and Hermione, confusion and worry evident on her face.

Harry and Padma quickly followed Parvati and managed to catch up again soon enough. This time Parvati grudgingly stopped at being called out.

"What do you want to say, sis?" Parvati said darkly, turning and facing her.

They were on the second floor, alone. Parvati was standing a dozen or so meters away from Padma, and Harry a few steps behind her. He cast a privacy charm immediately.

Padma didn't reply for a moment. Harry watched as she collected herself, trying to brace herself for whatever the confrontation would bring.

"I want to know what your involvement was with Ginny and her spell on Harry," Padma answered once she felt herself ready.

"What makes you say that I was involved at all?" Parvati replied snappishly.

Harry was rather taken aback by the attitude Parvati was exuding. She was normally a lot like Lavender, giggly, completely girly, and attentive only for matters involving 'boys', clothes or Divination. Right now she was acting… Daphne like.

He chose to field Parvati's question. "Around about the time I found myself under the spell, you suddenly spent more time with Ginny. She's been here for four years and suddenly you become chummy at just that time? You have to admit that it's suspicious."

Parvati shifted on her feet, her hands on her hips, her left hip jutting outwards slightly. Her pose challenged him. "What about it?" she said, an eyebrow raised.

"I want to know what your involvement in all that was," Padma repeated shortly, her sister's attitude starting to get the better of her.

"My involvement?" replied Parvati, her eyebrow remaining cocked. "I had nothing to do with Ginny's obsession with Harry."

"You bloody well did," Padma deadpanned. Parvati lost her cold demeanour for a moment. She knew that Padma only swore when she was immensely ticked off.

"You're telling me that you have been sending Harry and me those contemptuous looks the last two months for absolutely no reason?" Padma asked harshly. She steeled herself and added, "Or are you simply daydreaming about him and hating me for our friendship?"

Parvati's skin appeared to colour. It was hard to tell from Harry's position. What more, he could tell this was about to become very emotional, very quickly.

But now that he was here, Harry had absolutely no idea how to help. He was a spectator, nothing more.

"Daydreaming about _him_?" Parvati repeated shrilly. "Why would I waste my time on someone who –"

"– Ignored you at the Yule Ball?" Padma interrupted her twin. "Instead spent his time watching Cho Chang until you were fed up and left with some Beauxbatons boys? You certainly '_wasted your time'_ on him then."

"That has nothing to do with this!" Parvati shouted, her face flaming red.

"Then what does?" Padma asked insistently, her hands tightening into fists in her frustration. "What's so important to you that it makes you help _that girl_ force Harry into near slavery? For Morgana's sake, Parv, this is serious!"

Parvati took three steps forward, somehow making the gap between them shrink enormously. The two of them were only a couple meters apart now. They stared each other down.

"What makes you think _you_ can understand?" Parvati said furiously, pointing at her twin. "What makes you think you can understand anything about love when all you do is '_study_'?"

"As opposed to what?" Padma replied, her own hands gesturing wildly. "Discussing which boy is the cutest, _ooh_-ing at anything remotely _cute_ or fawning over part-human Divination teachers? Yes, I can see how I am completely in the wrong here." Padma sighed and her tone lost her venom for a moment. "How do you expect to manage through life on your own like that?"

"At least I have fun," Parvati retorted angrily.

"Fun?" Padma scoffed. "You don't know what happens in my life anymore, Parv. I have a great many friends who I care about, and they me. My fun stems from being with them, not from prattling on about how 'hot' someone is or isn't."

"And whose fault is that?" questioned Parvati with a sour expression. "It's not like you come talk to me between classes anymore."

"We've been drifting for four years now," Padma replied in a calmer, more solemn voice. "We were fine our first couple of years. You know what changed, you just won't admit it."

Parvati was silent after that. Padma seemed to have drawn Parvati into a path she didn't want. Harry, on the other hand, had ceased to follow the exchange. This was new territory for him. What had happened four years ago?

"Did you have any involvement in Ginny's plot?" Padma asked again.

"She did everything on her own," Parvati answered curtly. She ran a hand through her long, black hair and settled her eyes on Harry for the first time since the fight had started. Padma noticed and inched a little closer. "I knew. That's all."

"Why didn't you tell me, or him? You had to know how wrong what she was doing was!"

"Why should I have?" she responded, and her uncaring tone surprised both Padma and Harry. What had he done to induce such a response to his wellbeing from her?

"You'd let what could have happened happen because he messed up your dream night?" asked Padma, her tone betraying how astounded she was. "This isn't like you. What happened?"

"Him," Parvati said quietly, her eyes flicking towards Harry and then back to Padma.

"Him?" Padma repeated coldly, her hair flailing everywhere as she faced Harry and then her sister once more. "His name is Harry."

The two of them turned to face Harry. He suddenly wished he could shrink into the ground.

"You don't understand, sis!" Parvati went on, taking several steps forward and stopping directly in front of her twin. They were the same height, almost identical in appearance. The most immediate difference Harry could determine was Parvati's hair was straighter and shinier, no doubt originating from many hours in front of the mirror. "You don't understand what I feel! What he did to me!"

"What then!" Padma shouted exasperatedly. "What could he have possibly done to you that deserved being forced into slavery by that minger?"

Parvati began to slowly walk towards Harry, Padma matching her movements. Harry watched Parvati level with him and begin to slowly pace up and down, not taking her eyes off him or Padma for a moment. Padma was motionless, watching her sister, though an eye was on Harry. They were close enough to touch if they wanted to.

"You, Harry, it's always you, isn't it?" Parvati said. "I accidentally stumbled upon Ginny casting the spell on you, the night after you two were caught snogging."

"We weren't snogging!" exclaimed Harry, frustrated. "The bloody gossipers in this school –"

Parvati cut across him. "– That doesn't matter!"

"Then what does?" Padma asked seriously, crossing in and out of Harry's vision. He _really_ didn't like being the middle of these two witches. "Why do this? Why not say anything, why this attitude to us?

"The Yule Ball –"

"– Of course…" Harry interrupted sarcastically.

Parvati glared at Harry for a moment, who unwilling flinched. She was beyond furious and he could literally feel it.

"Pride," Padma surmised. Harry looked at Padma briefly and saw the understanding in her eyes. She had been right after all.

Parvati stopped pacing and stood stock still, staring between Harry and Padma before settling on the former only. "You hurt me," she deadpanned.

Harry faced Parvati, his face not betraying his emotions. He was sorry that he had hurt her, hurt her so much that she was pushed to this, but he didn't know why or how something so insignificant came to this. He prayed silently to himself that there was more to it.

"The Yule Ball was to be the biggest night of our lives back then," Parvati explained furiously. "A dress up ball with fancy dresses and dress robes, young, eligible males to be our dates with after parties around the school, it's what many teenage girls dream of for their celebrations, Harry. This was to be our night of firsts." She raised her hand and began ticking items off with her fingers as she went on, her voice softening as she drifted into her fantasies.

"Our first dance, our first dates, our first dress up ball, our first kisses!"

Padma scoffed and crossed her arms.

"Didn't you wonder why the apparent 'prettiest girls in school' weren't taken when you finally asked, Harry?" Parvati asked, ignoring her sister. She took a step forward and reached out to touch him. Padma intercepted the hand and pushed it aside, standing protectively in front of Harry.

Parvati glared at her sister vehemently, crossing her arms. "Sis here didn't even _want_ to go," she said condescendingly.

Padma bristled. "Why would I have been interested in a night of dancing with boys expecting what they shouldn't? I was content to spend the night with Su thank you very much."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sis. I'll make sure to write you off the list of people to set up then."

Padma glowered at her twin. "You can be so much like her it amazes me."

Parvati was stunned into silence. Her arms fell to her side. Whatever Padma had meant was lost on Harry but not Parvati.

"Don't bring her into this; she isn't a part of this," Parvati threatened in a dark tone.

"You know everything changed when she appeared," Padma replied in a similar manner. She raised her hand and pointed at her twin and spoke accusingly. "You didn't notice it; you latched onto her as soon as she appeared. I did notice." Padma shook her head sadly. "You weren't the one on the outside."

Padma paused and her face softened. She reached out to touch Parvati, to try and form a connection with her and end the fighting, only to have her hand pushed aside.

"So, what, it was wrong of me to want someone?" demanded Parvati, and there were tears forming in her eyes. "No offence, sis, I can only stand a certain amount of reading until I'm ready to flip. I needed something you couldn't give me."

"And these last two years?" asked Padma airily, her voice quivering. "What about them? We'd grown up enough by then to not need her and you still spent every waking second tailing and admiring her. You didn't make any effort to talk to me."

"I'm not like you, Pad, I can't live without someone."

"You never had to," Padma said quietly. "You never even gave enough time to adjust. The second she was in picture, you were on her and never let her go."

"And you were okay," Parvati spat. "I can't believe how easy it was for you. It was like you didn't care."

Padma flinched at her sister's words. She clenched her eyes shut and Harry saw a tear trickle down her cheek.

"Of course I cared!" she shouted angrily. "She was –"

"– I needed someone," Parvati interrupted bluntly. Padma didn't open her eyes. "I don't understand how you couldn't." Parvati's face softened and a tear fell. "I used to admire you for being so strong…" Her face hardened slightly. "… but this was too much. I couldn't hate you. You're my twin, I can never hate you. But…." Parvati trailed off, but her thoughts were clear.

"I missed her and I needed her too." Padma whispered.

"You didn't act like it. You were like me and then," she clicked her fingers. "You were okay."

"Don't you remember the game we played when were young?" asked Padma sadly, quietly, while keeping her eyes shut. "We used to see how long we could last keeping a straight face. You'd try to make me laugh or smile."

"Oh..." whispered Parvati, an unwelcoming realization dawning on her. She shook her head twice quickly, disbelieving. 

"I always won," Padma reminded her, opening her tear filled eyes. "I hated it when everyone would fuss over us, I hated when they thought we weren't listening they would pity us. I coped, Parvati. I coped the only way I could."

Harry sneezed.

Padma and Parvati whirled around, their hair flailing wildly as they did. Both were visibly shocked. They had forgotten he was present. He hadn't made much noise.

Parvati's resolve hardened again. Harry could see it in her features. They'd been making progress, though Harry was at a loss as to what towards and what this stemmed from. He wished he hadn't interrupted.

"That has nothing to do with this," Parvati repeated coldly. Padma let out another tear and half-heartedly wiped at her eyes with her robes sleeve.

"Of course it does," Padma countered fiercely. "This isn't about Harry. This is about you, me and _her_. You're just using him as an outlet."

But Parvati wasn't listening anymore.

"I was waiting, hoping you would ask me, Harry," Parvati whispered, and her voice was soft and wistful. Padma let out a frustrated groan and Harry could tell she was restraining herself from doing more. "When you did ask, you wouldn't believe how happy I was. My dreams were coming true." Parvati had a small reflective smile on her face for a second, before it disappeared, only to be replaced by a dark, solemn gaze.

"Then you ignored me all night," she said brusquely. "We danced, what, twice, at the start because we _had_ to. Everything I hoped the night would be was crushed because of you."

"And that warrants you aiding Ginny to turn me into a mindless berk?" Harry asked exasperatedly.

"Come on, Parv, tell him everything," Padma goaded. Harry could tell she wasn't caring about what she said anymore. "You've said this much, you might as well tell him the last part."

Parvati's face darkened. "I was in love with you and you rejected me over that bint Cho Chang."

"How in the name of Merlin were you in love with me?" challenged Harry furiously. "What do you even know about me?" Harry took a threatening step forward, moving out of Padma's protective stance, frustrations from years of people presuming things about him spilling out. "I'm not the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived! I'm Harry, Harry Potter, and whatever you've fantasized about is not who I bloody well am!"

"Harry," said Padma quietly, trying to placate him. She placed her smallish hands on his chest, halting him. "It's okay Harry," she said softly. Padma maintained her focus on him, cocking an eyebrow when he didn't immediately stand down. Harry looked into the young woman's eyes and his own anger was drowned out by the cacophony of emotions in hers.

Content for the time being regarding Harry, Padma spun on the spot a second time to face her twin sister. Harry didn't interfere. Her eyes had been pleading, desperate.

"This stupid thing with the Yule Ball, Parvati, it isn't worth this," Padma implored to her, keeping between Parvati and Harry but moving closer to her twin slowly. "It isn't worth hating him for. We were fourteen! What could you have expected from a kid who has no experience with anything like this? He didn't grow up our way. Surely you knew that. We all talked about it first year, how he wasn't what we expected."

Parvati didn't respond, and Padma became even more distressed.

"Why, Parv," Padma begged, stepping forward and grasping her twin on the shoulders, shaking her to make sure of her attention. "Why didn't you just let it go?" she asked, trying to recapture her sisters' gaze.

Harry stepped forward, placed his own hands on Padma's shoulders and gently tried to pry her aside. Padma shrugged him off and shook Parvati roughly. Briefly, Harry saw the well of tears in the eyes of the both sisters, as well as the desperation.

"We're teenagers, sis," reminded Padma emotionally. "We all make mistakes and nothing is ever perfect. Talk to me about her, please. Let's focus on the real issue and not this act. Parvati..."

"She isn't all that bad, Pad," Parvati said quietly. "You don't know her like I do."

"That's because she has no interest in something as modern as a woman reading," Padma seethed. "She's content where she is."

Parvati pushed Padma off, her anger covering her features again. "I don't want to talk about this, and especially not in front of _him_."

Padma recoiled at the harsh tones, her entire posture screaming fear and desperation.

"Just leave me alone, Pad," Parvati said. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Your sister is trying to help," Harry spoke pleadingly. "Don't you understand how much this is hurting her?" He didn't know what this was all about anymore. All he truly understood was how much this was tearing up Padma. Anyone could.

"Don't, Harry," Parvati said tersely "You're not innocent in this either. You two," she looked between Harry and Padma, before shouting indignantly, "Getting all cosy together when you knew how I felt!"

"Not this again…" muttered Padma.

"We're friends and you have no right to interfere with that," Harry said furiously. "You said you loved me. What have you done to try and get to know me? Come on, this isn't about me, is it?"

This was another territory that Parvati didn't want to speak about, perhaps because her charade was exposed and she didn't want to admit it, perhaps another invisible reason. Instead, she let out an aggravated growl, turned and began walking away again.

"Parvati," Padma called after her. "Please Parvati!"

When no answer came, Padma raced after her twin, Harry a few steps behind her. Padma stepped in front of Parvati and placed her hands on her twin's chest, halting her movement.

"Please, Parvati, this isn't right," she pleaded. "We shouldn't be arguing about this. Can't we go back to how things were when Mum was –"

"– Mum's gone." Parvati replied harshly, yet her voice wavered with the weight of her words. With a quick movement, Padma's hands were knocked aside and Parvati walked off.

"Parvati!" Padma cried. She did not follow this time.

Without hesitating, Parvati reached the end of the hall and disappeared from sight.

Walking slowly towards Padma, Harry heard a small sob. He reached out and gently laid a hand on her shoulder again. At the contact, Padma let out a second, louder sob and quickly enveloped Harry in a fierce embrace. He reciprocated after recovering from the sudden impact.

This went on for a long time. As it did, Harry began to feel rather awkward standing in a hall with a crying female and began to imagine a series of scenarios that would occur if someone stumbled upon this situation. Quite quickly, Harry gently directed Padma to a room a short way ahead and set up the usual spells on the door, ensuring privacy.

The two sat together on the cold, harsh stone against the similarly cold, harsh wall. Padma continued to lean on Harry and he relaxed, lifting his left hand to stroke the dark hair of the equally dark skinned girl. Her hair was soft, silky almost, though not as well cared for as Parvati's appeared, and, considering her position near his chest, smelt strongly of something he knew, but couldn't place.

Before long, Padma began fully fledged crying. Harry patiently sat beside her, letting the girl expel all she could. While not one to cry, he understood the need for it sometimes.

Occasionally he made shushing sounds. Harry continued to run his hand through Padma's hair, hoping it was calming. It took several minutes but Padma started to calm down. She didn't release her grip on Harry in the least, however, and Harry continued to stroke her hair.

"She'll come around one day," Harry said quietly after a moment more silence. Padma shook her head into Harry's robes, unintentionally leaving a trail of wetness from her tears.

"I hoped I was wrong, that Parvati wasn't somehow involved," Padma said sadly. "I was lying to myself."

"You didn't want to lose your sister," Harry reminded her, continuing to stroke her hair softly. "From experience I can safely say that you'll always try to deny the unpleasant reality regardless of how obvious it is. It's probably human nature, to avoid and hide truths that hurt."

"We're teenagers, Harry," said Padma, shaking her head again. "We shouldn't have to deal with this. It's not right."

"When is the world right?" Harry asked rhetorically. "If the world was right there'd be no Dark Lords, Death Eaters or any crime whatsoever, let alone Ron, Ginny, and Parvati doing what they did."

Padma gently pushed herself upright and wiped her eyes. Harry extracted his hand from her hair and heard the girl whisper, "Sorry."

"It's okay," replied Harry honestly. He knew her apology went deeper than the damp spots of his robes. Instead he tried cheering her up by grinning slightly and saying, "If crying on me helped, then I suppose I'm okay with that."

Padma laughed softly. "Don't ever change, Harry."

Unsure what to say to that, he merely smiled in a hopefully reassuring way.

A more comfortable silence ensued.

"Can I ask a favour?" asked Padma seriously.

"We are friends, Padma," Harry said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "There's no need to ask."

Through her wet eyelashes, Harry saw her glance up at him with a small smile. "Just listen then."

The 'Claw shuffled on the bench and leant in close enough to lean on Harry's shoulder, mimicking their first real heart to heart conversation against the wall in Ravenclaw Tower. The only difference was their positions were reversed.

"During our second year here, our mother died," Padma opened. Harry visibly reacted to this. Although not one to listen to gossip, one would assume that big news like that would find its way to him one way or another. But perhaps neither twin had spoken about this to enough people for the news to spread.

"It was an accident overseas," Padma explained. "Magic can do a great many things but it has its limitations, and…, well, my mum didn't survive."

Harry nodded his understanding; his hand reaching over Padma's back to her opposite shoulder and put a little pressure on, drawing her closer.

"Since then, things have become… strained… at home." Padma shook her head into Harry's shoulder. "We went home for the holidays and we were all a mess. She was young; we hadn't expected her passing on to be so sudden, so random."

"I don't think it's supposed to be drawn out," Harry whispered, more to himself than to her, thinking about how quickly his own parents had passed on.

Padma simply nodded and continued. "Dad met and married a new woman within six months during our third year, and that only made the situation worse. Parvati and I initially couldn't stand the idea of someone taking her place. She wasn't our mother, she had no right to try and take her place. But Dad forced us to get along. Yet she held no interest in us and we her. We couldn't wait to return to Hogwarts and get away from her."

Padma sighed deeply.

"For a long time Dad and her were very into each other. You couldn't find one without the other. They went out every other night to some expensive restaurant and a show or a walk in Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park – all the pretty places, and the other nights they would spend every moment either in their bedroom or out the back in our pool or our gardens – she has some fascination with gardens, plants, flowers, whatever – yet you wouldn't catch her tending to one in this or the next lifetime. That phase lasted until they got married and returned from their honeymoon. It was a few days after that, during the summer before fourth year, when our beloved stepmother started losing interest in Dad."

Padma shook her head into his shoulder a second time. "Initially she spent no time with Parvati and me – we were in the background to her, something to be known and ignored – and we were left to cope with Mom's passing and _her_ inclusion to the family by ourselves. At some point Parvati had begun to like her. Perhaps it was because of her clothes – always the best for her – or some other reason entirely, but she did and she and I started moving apart."

"After the honeymoon, she took an interest in Parvati and her obsession with clothes and males – two things she knew very well," Padma said in a vile tone. "The two of them would speak at length about both, and she would offer pointers to Parvati on some things we shouldn't have even been thinking about at our age, let alone _performing_. I'm certain she had never dealt with children or early teenagers before and treated Parvati like one her… _friends_." Padma practically spat the last word.

Harry cast a curious glance. Padma seemed to sense it and elaborated. "Her friends all dress in expensive dresses, dress robes or, frankly, anything a common person wouldn't be able to afford. Each of them would wear amounts of jewellery that probably fed the store owner for a year. And that's each. Perfume was the same, and in suffocating amounts. And they're horrible people too, the worst personalities you'll experience in higher class society."

"They sound like it," Harry offered. He didn't know what else to say.

Padma nodded again and shuffled on the spot, effectively moulding herself further into Harry's embrace.

"I was left to the side," Padma said depressingly. "Dear stepmother believes that intelligence in a pureblood woman is unnecessary. We should strive to find a strong, wealthy, pureblood man to take care of us and not worry about simple, trivial matters such as self-respect." She sighed and added callously, "Life between Parvati and me has only gotten harder since then. I'm not certain Parvati won't turn out the same. And that disgusts and horrifies me at the same time."

"At home, I'm pretty much ignored now. Dad's still into our stepmother, she enjoys basking in our… wealthy lifestyle." Padma turned aside in embarrassment at the admission. "And Parvati and she seem to get along well now."

"That explains a lot," Harry said. "Why you want so much to be independent. You don't want to be anything like your stepmother. You want to live on your own feet."

"Absolutely," Padma admitted strongly. "I want to earn my way through the world, and not ride on the coattails of someone else. I think that's exactly what my stepmother is doing – her friends too – and I despise that. And that's probably why I try so hard to learn and know as much as I can."

She sighed again.

"This has been a long time coming," Padma went on, staring over at the opposite wall and the stained glass window. "Parvati and I, that is. She knows how I disapprove of her and their relationship. We've nearly fought half a dozen times or so before and… well, you heard us. We've changed a lot since Mum died."

"I'm sorry about you getting caught between us," Padma said sincerely. "Parvati has liked you – loved, I doubt – or at least the idea of you – for quite some time. I don't blame you for wanting to be with Cho more than her. It could have been anyone on your arm that you didn't truly care about that night."

Harry was about to protest but was cut short when he realized that she was right. He had only been interested in Cho at that point. Probably only Fleur would have driven Cho from his mind that night, and her by simple beauty and not by serious attraction. Even Hermione, as beautiful as she was that night, mightn't have been enough.

"You and I becoming friends, with our recent history…" began Padma before trailing off.

"…would have made her angrier at you and that only escalated what she already felt, resulting in what just happened," Harry finished for her in a rush of understanding. While in no way was that an improvement of the situation, it did feel good to not be directly responsible for destroying the relationship between Padma and Parvati. It still disturbed him how vengeful Parvati had become though.

"You'll reconcile with each other, I'm sure," Harry said confidently, rubbing his hand over her shoulder comfortingly.

"Since when were you the optimistic one, Harry?" asked Padma half-jokingly. She wiped at her eyes again.

"Since I'm not the one with a problem," he responded, smiling slightly.

Padma sat up by herself again and looked Harry in the eyes. Harry stared back, taking his arm off her shoulder. Padma's eyes were red from her earlier crying, but instead of the desperation he'd seen earlier, there was a small hint of happiness and hope in there.

"You're a really, really good friend," Padma said, reaching forward with a hand and brushing it against Harry's cheek.

Reacting on instinct and a dash of common sense, Harry leant forward and gently wrapped Padma in a hug, surprising the young woman. "I think I'm getting better at this cheering up thing."

Padma's heart was beating quickly; reacting to Morgana knew what emotions or hormones rampant inside of her. She kissed Harry on the cheek softly, before enveloping him in her own hug.

It was sometime later Padma felt herself composed enough to return to the world around her and Harry. She reluctantly stood up with Harry's help and the two exited the room in search of Hermione. She was waiting for them patiently in Gryffindor Tower, working on some sort of homework.

"Are you alright, Padma?" Hermione asked the moment she saw her. In an instant, her homework was forgotten, an odd enough occurrence, and gave her own embrace to Padma, who accepted the gesture as gracefully as Hagrid might have.

"Yeah," replied Padma in a surprised tone. "Thank Harry."

-x-x-x-x-x-

The remainder of Christmas Eve was spent together around Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione and Padma chattered mindlessly about everything and nothing, merely enjoying each other's company and avoiding the topic of Parvati Patil. Before long, the miniature feast that was always prepared for the night before Christmas was underway.

The first thing Harry noticed was the lack of tension compared with the morning. With Padma and Parvati no longer on the edge of a fight, the twins ignoring each other completely, those normally unfortunate enough to sit between them felt far more at ease.

For the most part, the meal was enjoyable, though Padma remained quiet but attentive. The only factor that disturbed the night's mood of general happiness was Daphne Greengrass. More than once Harry caught her glancing at him from her position between Nott and a fourth year Slytherin Harry did not know the name of.

Her attitude towards Padma, Hermione and himself earlier was characteristic of the normal Daphne, in public. On Daphne's insistence, the DA was not to act like they had ever exchanged words with her. Daphne was an outcast amongst her classmates and peers. Few ever communicated with her on a friendly basis, and never a Gryffindor.

She was a complex person. Harry didn't understand her and deemed her as such. Why would anyone willingly avoid friendship? Aside from learning magic, that was the thing that he wanted most when he arrived at Hogwarts, perhaps at times even more so. Her less than welcoming attitude didn't inspire people to get to know her either. So what was her agenda here?

The previous few years had seen the Slytherins become more and more dangerous. Crabbe and Goyle teaming up with a Death Eater to try and lure Harry away from Hogwarts was the most recent and dangerous of the lot. Slowly, the Slytherins were becoming more and more confident in their actions and Daphne was stuck in the middle of it.

She was forced to meet Harry in secret constantly. When she was in her common room, if she let slip anything about her involvement with Harry or anything about any of the rest, she would be in trouble for it.

_So_, Harry asked himself, _what's happening_? Had she been found out and was covering herself by acting coldly towards him and his friends? Harry would attempt to find out, but it seemed tonight was not the night for it, as Daphne left surrounded by an entourage of her housemates.

Padma, when Harry bade goodnight after the feast, was more cheerful than she had been several hours prior. The mood was too infectious to resist. But Harry knew she'd spend a lot of the night awake, thinking, contemplating, and searching for a way to bridge the suddenly massive gap between herself and her twin.

The common room was decorated beautifully as always. Harry stepped in, Hermione a few steps behind, and immediately was enveloped with the warmth of the fires, the ever-present smell of burning wood, and the sounds of the crackling fire and chit chatter of a his housemates.

Harry stepped around a few third years who were laughing together and spotted Parvati across the room. Parvati had looked up from her conversation with Lavender and had accidentally caught his gaze. For a long, uncomfortable moment, the two stared unmoving at each other before Parvati stood up and walked off in a huff. Lavender stared after her friend, speechless at the sudden, reasonless exit.

Hermione bit her lip worrying. She looked ready to say something; she instead chose to let the silence linger. The two bade each other goodnight and left for bed several minutes later.

As Harry lay in bed that night, thoughts swirling uncontrollably in his mind, he pondered the likelihood of Padma and Parvati ever reconciling. It hurt him a little that he had lied to Padma, even a white lie, about reconciliation with her sister, though it was what she probably needed to hear.

Still, one could always hope that life would turn out all right in the end.

_Yeah, right_, Harry scoffed to himself, and he rolled over. For the next hour he tried to shut his mind off and escape into the dream world where everything did work out all right.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Christmas morning dawned to an already awake Harry. Sleep had evaded him for much of the night. He only managed to drift in and out throughout much of it. There had been an unsettling feeling in his stomach numerous times in the night. Finally it had dissipated enough, for whatever sleep was on the table claimed him, only for him to wake a few hours later.

To his surprise, the largest pile of presents he'd ever seen was situated at the end of his bed. The pile rivalled Ron's own piles, even with his abnormally large family.

Excited and feeling like a child for the first time in a very long time, Harry threw the covers off his bed to the ground and crawled forwards on his bed to the end. He quickly counted twelve gifts, one considerably larger than the rest which Harry put aside for later.

The smallest of the group was neatly placed on top the rest. Harry picked that one up first, noticing how soft the item was, and examined it briefly before carefully discarding the red and green wrapping paper.

Inside was…

"Bloody hell!"

It didn't take long for the inner child to grow up. Inside the wrapping paper were two pairs of matching bras and underwear, one navy blue and one a dark purple. Guessing who had sent them was not a difficult task. When a card was found in within the undergarments, Harry's guess was confirmed.

_Harry,_

_Hope you liked our gift! Be sure to keep them safe and out of sight from the other boys in your dorm. These are for your eyes only!_

_Have a wonderful Christmas and we'll see you in the New Year._

_Susan and Hannah_

Below the message was a postscript that caused Harry to do a double take.

_PS: We expect you to give them back to us. They're for us to wear for you, not _for_ you!_

Immediately his mind went into overdrive, creating images of the regular blonde and strawberry blonde wearing the purple and blue undergarments respectively, while ignoring the remark about him wearing them.

Harry snapped back to attention a moment before the images went any further than kissing and mild groping. He was incredibly glad the dorm room was empty right about now. Harry put the card aside, picked up the undergarments, pausing slightly to examine them a little closer, before shaking his head in the hopes the conjured images of Susan and Hannah wearing nothing but the underwear he was holding would disappear, and buried the items in a deep corner in his trunk.

_Yep,_ Harry thought wryly. _Those two are definitely getting more sexual._

Perhaps strangely, perhaps not, but the thought of that didn't bother him in the least. It was probably his inner teenager giving him surrealistic fantasies. Well, they weren't hurting anybody, and they had to expect he'd imagine them in their underwear. Admiring their boldness was something he did for a moment, before turning to the next present.

The next gift turned out to be a simple wrist wand holster from Neville. Robes, as much as the wizarding world seemed to like them, were a pain to deal with when drawing a wand quickly. He put it on, testing it out. It seemed to work well enough, though as he was planning on wearing Muggle clothes once he was out of Hogwarts, it may not be as useful as it otherwise could have been.

Su gave him a wand care set, something he desperately needed. The first time he'd even thought of taking care of his wand was at the Weighing of the Wand ceremony two years previous. He had embarrassed himself trying to clean it belatedly with his robe, causing a minor shower of sparks. Examining his wand now, he couldn't say the condition had improved.

Katie gave him a set of Quidditch robes, as he'd grown several inches since the previous school year, and a new pair of goggles with automatic Impervious, De-Fogging and Anti-Glare Charms. Those would be _very_ helpful for the upcoming matches that were usually performed in poor weather, and Harry figured Katie knew that and that's why he got them.

Ernie's gift turned out to be a notebook. On the outside there was nothing remarkable about it, however on the inside there was. Divided into sections were the subheadings of 'Sport', 'Homework', 'Appointments', 'Social Engagements' and, what Harry figured was an addition that Ernie made himself, 'DA'.

Giving it a test run, Harry wrote a number of spells he and Hermione intended to teach the DA over the remainder of the year with several corresponding falsified dates. He closed the notebook, waited a moment, spoke aloud one of the false dates and opened the book. The first page was marked as the date he'd specified, with the spell he'd written for the date written underneath the DA heading.

Next was Luna's gift. After unwrapping the present, he found a leather bound book with some sort of creature drawn on the front. It moved about, sniffing at his fingers on the cover. If he didn't know any better, Harry would have to say it was an animal book. Knowing Luna however, Harry figured it would be filled with the creatures she was familiar with rather than the usual Hippogriffs, Chimeras, Phoenixes and other assorted 'normal' magical animals.

Considering the third page included a picture of what a Crumbled Horned-Snorkack was supposed to look like, Harry considered himself correct.

The next gift was the largest of the lot and, to his surprise, came from the Weasley family. This was one gift he hadn't been expecting this year.

Warily, he opened the package to find the usual Weasley jumper and a dozen homemade pies inside. There was also a card stuck to the outside that Harry removed and opened.

_Dear Harry,_

_From what I understand it has been a difficult term for you and my Ronald and Ginevra. I hope you can sort out your differences. You are still an honorary Weasley, Harry dear, do remember that._

_Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year._

_Mrs. Weasley._

Harry reread the card a second and third time. After what he'd seen in Hermione's memory, it wasn't easy to believe that she could have the audacity to say _'I hope you can sort out your differences'_.

Pushing the Weasley items to the side for later thought, Harry moved onto the next present, which turned out to be Hermione's. The previous year's distaste for the homework diaries Hermione had given Ron and himself must've been noticeable as Hermione discarded the homework related items in favour of a new eagle quill and, amazingly, a new watch. The one that stopped working in the Second Task never did get replaced.

This watch did, incredibly, tell the time. On more than one occasion staying with the Weasley's, Harry had had the misfortune to look at the clock in Ron's room to see it say 'get to sleep already' and 'early morning'. God only knew why wizard clocks and mirrors had to have attitude or didn't just give you the bloody time. It was supposed to be their job, after all.

The watch, according to Hermione's card, would automatically tell you the time regardless of which time zone you were, would work underwater and the 'battery' would never run out. He donned it on and moved on to the next one.

Next was Remus' gift. While the two of them had not shared any correspondence since the will reading, Harry felt oddly connected to the werewolf. The gift would mean a lot, coming from the last person to truly know Lily and James Potter, regardless of what it was.

It was a shame that the two of them barely knew each other, despite having that connection to the dead. The Patronus lessons aside, they had rarely spent any time simply communicating with each other.

There was a note accompanying the package which Harry read first.

_Harry,_

_I'm aware that Hagrid gave you a photo album in your first year. In the package is a number of photos of my own that I copied for you. I'm certain that Hagrid wasn't able to acquire all the photos last time. Here are some more to add._

_The rest of your present is something less tangible than photographs. I hope we can spend a day together soon so I can show you the rest of your present._

_Have a Merry Christmas, Harry._

_Remus Lupin_

Amongst the pictures were only three Harry had seen before. The pictures ranged from the Marauder's first year all the way up to their days outside of Hogwarts. Suspiciously there was no Wormtail in any of them. In the school photos Harry wondered where the rat was until he realized he didn't care and preferred it that way.

The rest of the present, Harry assumed, were memories, the 'less tangible than photographs' remark a giveaway. That meeting with Remus was something he already started looking forward to. The only memory of his parents he'd seen was Snape's experience after his OWLs and wanted to see some more likeable ones. He wanted to experience for himself the two people that were considered great people and not rely on the worst memories of Serverus Snape to formulate his opinion of his parents.

There were now three presents left, all roughly the same size. The first one Harry picked up turned out to be one from Daphne. He opened the gift to discover a card and a mirror.

_To check appearances,_

_Daphne_

After examining the mirror for several minutes and not finding anything remotely magical about it, Harry had a brainwave. Putting the note behind the mirror, Harry looked at the mirror.

At first there was nothing, and then the page suddenly faded into view with another few lines underneath her signature. Quickly Harry looked at the note again around the mirror to find the same four words he'd seen at first. Curious, Harry read the extra lines.

_You'll have to tell me how long it took you to figure this out. This mirror is able to see through most __glamour's and a variety of hiding spells. Your Cloak will be immune, but most else should be visible. Keep this safe, it will be of great use to you in the future._

_Merry Christmas, Potter._

Harry quickly examined the rest of the card for any further messages with no result. He settled on rereading the message and wondering what she meant by it. He would need this in the future? What did she mean by that?

Nonetheless, the mirror could be quite useful given the right situation. Harry put it aside with the rest of the presents he'd received and moved onto the next.

Padma's was next. There was a large multi-photo picture frame inside. Although he had many pictures, mostly of his parents, he had no picture frames to put any of them in. His mind brushed over a number of images he could put inside before settling on an idea he thought would work best.

Since there was room for four pictures, Harry decided to dedicated one spot to the picture of his parents wedding with Sirius, Lily and James laughing happily, oblivious to their tragic future. The next spot would be reserved for a photo of the entire DA, his friends. The third would be a spot for him and Hermione, the one who'd stayed with him through everything. The last would be for him and Padma. It was her gift and, if anything could, the thought that her present would hold a photo of the two of them would definitely cheer her up.

It made sense in his head to do that. Even as friends, giving a picture frame with room for four photos and not having one with the present giver seemed like bad taste.

Harry stared at the last gift apprehensively. The only other person who he thought would send him something was Fleur, and, considering how they had left each other the last time, he didn't know what to expect.

At the thought of the French woman, his heart constricted. Again, a myriad of emotions flooded him and he had no clue as to how to sort them out.

What had happened was complex and yet not. They'd kissed. They'd done more than that in the end. That was straightforward. What was complex was she was engaged at the time.

She was a beautiful woman, who had showed the elegance, grace and beauty of the rich and wealth, which, when compounded with the Veela blood in her, amplified all this. Really, it was amazing she had shown interest in him at all. But she had, and shown enough interest to betray her fiancée and kiss him.

Things were left unresolved, and a few weeks later when they saw each other again, Fleur had broken his heart. It wasn't a surprise, but it was still a shock, and it still hurt.

Harry sighed, leant forward onto his knees and rubbed his eyes, accidentally knocking his glasses to the bedclothes.

He had been happy, surprisingly happy at the Delacour mansion, even when the two of them were nothing more than friends, nothing that had complicated matters so much. Afterwards was like a dream, perfection even. The happiest he'd ever been was when he was in the same bed as Fleur, just being held or holding her. And when they were kissing and he could feel her beneath his hands. What more could he say about how he had felt? Still did?

He'd left France with hope, foolish hope, but hope nonetheless. But she had come to Hogwarts and turned him down in favour of Bill. That was the end of it. He could not compete with someone Fleur was _in love_ with. He was just scrawny, medium-height Harry Potter. So what if he got into danger a lot and managed to escape each time? Bill was a curse-breaker. He did the same every day and probably looked a lot cooler doing it. He couldn't compare.

Hesitating only a moment more, Harry replaced his glasses and picked up the gift. Slowly, carefully, he unwrapped the present. Inside was small box.

Curious, Harry opened the box to find a quill, ink and a pad inside. As with the other presents, a note came with it and Harry began to read it.

_Harry,_

_The Veela have often tried to find alternative ways of communication than the wizards of every era. One of the modern results of this experimentation is the box before you. Once you have written your message on this pad, close the box and say my name. The message will be transported directly to mine. These are the only two my family owns. Take good care of it._

_I hope you have a Merry Christmas._

_Fleur_

Harry set down the note and glanced at the box again. Fleur said that this item was one of two her family owned. Did that mean she still would go to great lengths to help him like she had claimed before?

Even so, Harry was a little disappointed. Not in the gift, he thought it a brilliant idea, but in the lack of anything besides an explanation of what the box was. No substance to the message, no reason to reply except to say thanks. It explained the gift; it wished him a Merry Christmas. It was the standard fair. There was nothing more, nothing less. Considering how they had parted the last time, perhaps he shouldn't have expected more. But rationale did not equate to human reaction and his reaction was disappointment.

He had never gotten to express his feelings to Fleur when she was here – he had been blown away by her saying she had used him to satiate her curiosity about some Veela thing he didn't quite grasp. However, he couldn't honestly say he could express them even now. It didn't feel fair that he had not spoken his piece. Then again, she was already in love with Bill Weasley and his feelings wouldn't have mattered against that.

Harry sighed deeply and fell backwards onto his pillows, groaning, closing his eyes. It was rather unfair that life continued to deal him such low blows, even on Christmas.

Perhaps he should try and move on? With Bill in the picture, he didn't exactly have a lick of a chance. There were many females in his life now. Who knew if someone for him was staring him in the face but he didn't know it? Hermione, Padma, Susan, Hannah, Luna, Su and, God help him, Daphne, were all central in his life now. Fleur wasn't. It was as simple as that.

In their own respect, each was attractive. That was another fact that could not honestly be denied.

The gift – this random box that could communicate to the other of its kind – complicated matters. He could, if he wished, communicate with Fleur and try to start something again. But, realistically, Harry didn't believe that he had a chance. He had communicated well with her in person, not in writing. He'd be best off just moving on.

After several minutes solid thought, Harry was no closer to finding something worth saying. There were walls between them now. Boundaries had been crossed and because of that he'd been pushed back to the start. It was like trying to talk to the Fleur from the first time they met, the one that had called him a child.

In the end, as Harry's stomach began to complain rather nosily, Harry opened the box, lifted out the quill inside and wrote a simple 'thank you'. It was the best he could think of, though it felt horribly insufficient considering what he felt he could say. But perhaps it was best that he not write anything more.

He had lost, if he even had had a chance in the first place. It was foolish to continue to hope and pray that Fleur would come running to him. It was time to move on. Making certain he could fulfil the prophecy was more important now. If something happened, it happened, but he would not waste any more time wallowing in self-pity over it.

Fleur was out of his league anyway. He wasn't even her type; there were no similarities between himself and Bill. What hope could he honestly have had?

He dressed, glad he had made some sort of decision, and made his way down to the common room.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," Hermione said cheerfully the moment his foot touched the carpet at the bottom of the stairwell. A second later he was stuck in a hug from his, surprisingly, not-so-bushy-haired best friend.

"Same to you," Harry replied warmly, thankful she had decided to stay at Hogwarts. "Good haul? And what's with the straight-er hair?"

"Oh, Harry, thank you for 'Ministries and Their Policies'!" Hermione thanked brightly. "I've already read the first chapter and it's amazing how different the Ministries are around the world and –"

"– Hermione," Harry interrupted quickly, for once Hermione got started on how good a book was, he knew from experience she could talk for an hour. He remembered the 'Hogwarts: A History' talks far too well for his liking. "You're babbling already. It's too early in the day."

A red tinge appeared on Hermione's cheeks and she stopped talking immediately. "Thank you for the wonderful gift," she finished a moment later. "Oh – and the hair is something Padma gave me. It is much easier than the potion I used for the Yule Ball. You know how my hair was always bothering me? She found something! Lavender couldn't believe it when I came out of the bathroom." She huffed. "It still takes about a half hour to get it like this. I'll only save it for special days."

"You're welcome." Harry replied sincerely. "And it…" he trailed off, thinking of the right way to say that she looked… attractive… with her hair tamed. In the end, 'nice' was all he could come up with without sounding like he was trying to court her.

"Thanks," Hermione responded cheerily, a little bit of colour still on her cheeks.

"Thanks for the quill and watch too."

"You're very welcome."

"Shall we have breakfast then?"

"We shall," Hermione answered, already on the move to the portrait hole. Harry watched her walk ahead for a moment before moving after her. Whatever had her in such a good mood was helping him too.

Harry was thankful for the experience with Fleur. He truly was. It had taught him a lot about relationships and, as corny as it sounded, his feelings. If there was a next time, at least he had something to work from and he was glad for that.

Harry joined Hermione as she passed through the portrait hole, the Fat Lady grumbling about early mornings as they did. The pair began conversing about mundane matter with ease, and their bad memories were forgotten in each other's company.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N: **Well, Harry has convinced himself that his time with Fleur is over and that it was a brief, one time fling that wouldn't repeat itself, as he's sick of wishing after her. Some of the Christmas items will definitely resurface later in this and next year. That's why I wrote the scene as I did and didn't just mention Harry had received gifts. It also gave Harry the opportunity to decide to concentrate on moving on from Fleur instead of wallowing and moping about it. I might as well add that just because Harry has decided to move on doesn't mean Fleur's avenue is closed. There's more to come from them before either ending – together or not.


	16. Ambitions

A/N: Thanks to chem prof for his beta work. He makes this far more readable than it otherwise would be.

_**Chapter 16: Ambitions**_

**Christmas Eve Attacks**

_By Erin Morgan_

_Normally this is the season to be merry, with gifts and cheer the norm on the 25th of December each year. This year, we might have to celebrate Christmas without the merry or the cheer. Last night a series of raids were undertaken throughout the nation by volatile forces, believed to be comprised of Death Eaters, all within an hour of each other._

_The first of the raids targeted one of many Auror outposts throughout the United Kingdom in Plymouth, in the nation's southwest. The lives of eight of the twelve stationed Aurors were lost, three others are in critical condition and the last is currently missing. Three Death Eater bodies were discovered at the scene, including recent Hogwarts graduate Marcus Flint._

_The second and third raids were undertaken in Glasgow and Edinburgh respectively, in the nation's north. A combined eleven Auror lives were lost, with two others in critical condition, two more are without all their limbs intact and another three Aurors are unaccounted for. The bodies of three more Death Eaters were found. Names have not been released as of yet._

_The fourth raid was across the Irish Sea in Londonderry, Northern Ireland. Out of the eight Aurors stationed there, six died; the other two are also in critical condition at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Evidence of Dementor activity has been found at the scene. Three of the six that tragically lost their lives in this attack had been Kissed._

_Closer to home there were five simultaneous attacks on Ministry employees' homes early this morning. Those that lost their lives were Brianna Dobbs, valued employee of the Department of Magical Transport, Aaron Moon, friendly member of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Cuthbert Mockridge, Goblin Liaison, and Aden Burby, quiet, withdrawn employee in Magical Equipment Control. The failed attack was on Bevan Seers, member of the Wizengamot known for his multiple attempts at repealing the werewolf laws of 1980-82._

_The death total for our side last night is twenty nine, with eight in critical condition, two Aurors no longer able to fight and four currently missing. In total, only ten Death Eaters were taken down last night._

_These attacks, occurring on the eve of a day of peace, family and happiness bring us back to the sharp reality of You-Know-Who and his continued threat to us all. Sources claim that this attack had been weeks in the making, due to the lack of known activity from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the planning that had to have gone into such an attack._

_In each attack the Ministry has met with losses. One can only agree with fellow journalist Rita Skeeter's questions regarding Ministry competence in protecting us, the regular citizen._

And on the article went, explaining in further detail all the facts, known history of the known deceased and further speculation on when and where the next attacks would occur.

Harry, Hermione and Padma read the article in turn, whatever happiness the gifts they received earlier in the morning had brought them disappearing quickly.

"We should have expected this," Harry remarked, leaning on his left hand, facing Padma and Hermione after each had read the article thoroughly.

"No news is bad news." Padma surmised each of his thoughts.

The attack brought more worries to Harry's mind. Just how large was Voldemort's army? Were the Death Eaters used last night the extent of his power? Or was this half, or not even the tip of the iceberg?

It was a distressing trail of thought.

The odds were stacked enough against them back in the Department of Mysteries. What if Harry came upon twenty, thirty, fifty, one hundred Death Eaters at once? The answers weren't promising.

Hermione and Padma were giving him queer looks as Harry contemplated how vast an army Voldemort had.

To be influential in both the United Kingdom and on the mainland, the numbers had to be considerable. Twenty people could not bring a government to a standstill.

Harry's mind recalled a time earlier in the year where he had been met with other news of a similar vein. The breakout of the Death Eaters – the Death Eaters Sirius had died for – had left him out of sorts. He – Harry – couldn't let the same happen again. He'd messed up that time. Here, in the confines of Hogwarts, it was relatively harmless. Out there it had the potential to be damaging to more than his morale.

Looking between the two females before him, Harry began dealing with the news. Realistically the odds could be far worse, and, anyway, it was unlikely that an attack with all of Voldemort's army would be brought upon him at any time. There always needed to be back up and Voldemort needed to kill Harry himself. The importance was not lost of Harry, not at all. He instead accepted the new knowledge and didn't let him overwhelm him like it had previously.

Harry nodded to himself and took a bite of his breakfast. His companions continued to give him queer looks.

"So," Harry said out of the blue to Hermione and Padma, smiling. "How should we spend the day?"

A few moments later, when the two most intelligent students at Hogwarts had come to their own conclusions on his attitude, they smiled back and the three of them began chatting away about anything and everything.

x-x-x-x-x-

The rest of Christmas Day went quickly, too quickly in Harry's opinion. The lack of students in the school didn't seem to deter the gossipers, hidden in their niches around the school discussing the news of the Eve attacks in hushed tones.

For the most part, the three were able to ignore them. When they stumbled upon Hagrid, who then proceeded to bring it up, the topic though, became unavoidable

The half-giant had been very enthusiastic to see Harry and Hermione after almost an entire term barely seeing them at all. Padma, nervously, was introduced in a more informal manner than she would normally be to a Professor. She was tentative for much of the conversation. Her feelings were only multiplied when Hagrid tried to reassure her and ended up knocking her to the floor in an overzealous pat on the shoulder.

Hagrid soon had to depart, odd jobs to do before the evening. After begging off lunch at Hagrid's, and warning Padma what his cooking was like, the trio spent the remainder of the afternoon in one of the numerous study halls just sitting and talking the day away.

Through the enjoyment of Hermione and Padma's company, there was one problem that remained present in the back of Harry's mind, demanding attention. The problem's name was Daphne Greengrass.

Inviting a Slytherin to be an ally was never going to be an easy task or go down without complications. The Oaths had been his insurance. The Oaths that had started this whole situation were no longer in use, done away with once Harry was confident his allies could keep their memories and thoughts to themselves. Why was this important? Because now Daphne could betray them at any time if she chose to.

But Harry didn't believe she had yet, or perhaps would.

So, with his belief that she would not betray him, why did she actively engage and insult Padma publicly when she never had before?

A chance to answer his questions arose after the Christmas Feast that night.

The absence of hundreds of students for the holidays didn't seem to affect the noise level. The Great Hall was buzzing with noise and activity, even on the single table for the remaining students. Daphne was seated amongst the other remaining Slytherins. She didn't spare Harry, Hermione or Padma a single glance.

It was only when she stood up to leave alone that Harry realized his chance.

More often than not, all students spent most of their night in the Great Hall on occasions such as this, with the food and drink continually flowing seemingly never endingly. It really was one of those nights to stuff oneself silly and chat until late with complete disregard to the consequences. Besides, it was Christmas. 

Harry excused himself a minute later, whispering his reasons quietly. Hermione and Padma quickly finished up, wanting to follow him, also desiring the same answers – Padma because she had been the target and Hermione because she had been the one vouching for her.

The three found themselves in the Entrance Hall a minute later. Daphne was nowhere in sight, unsurprisingly.

"Map?" suggested Padma.

"Got it," Harry replied immediately, getting it out of his pocket.

Harry scanned the map quickly in search of the Slytherin. He found her heading back to her common room. Harry closed the map and quickly sped after Daphne without a word. Padma raised an eyebrow and Hermione let out an irritated huff in response to his unannounced exit. The two females then left in the other direction, already fervently in discussion about Daphne before they'd left the room.

Harry on the other hand quickly moved down stairs and through several corridors, heading towards the Slytherin common room. The chance was there, and insight into Daphne's mind would be worth being out of breath.

Thankfully, he caught sight of the blonde well before she made it deep enough into the dungeons to get to her common room. A long corridor, that Daphne was half way through, separated the two students. It seemed suitable that such a confrontation would be in such a cold, dark, empty area of the castle.

Hearing hurried footsteps approaching, Daphne stopped and spun on the spot, awaiting her chaser. There was no visible reaction on her face when she caught sight of Harry following her nor was there any motion to speak. Undeterred by that, Harry continued to walk through the corridor, closing the distance. Daphne was stationary, waiting for him.

"What do you want, Potter – hey!"

Harry grabbed her arm firmly and halted her attitude filled dialogue. Maintaining his grip, he directed her further into the dungeons. A short way ahead of the two of them was a pair of doors. Harry dragged a protesting Daphne into the one on the left. It was a storeroom. It looked like an in-use one by the lack of dust on the numerous boxes and crates.

Closing the door behind him, Harry pulled Daphne towards him, grabbed her other hand and pushed her up against a wall, both hands pinning her own arms to the wall. He was immediately reminded of their first confrontation so long ago.

The breath was briefly knocked out of Daphne at the contact with the cold, hard stone wall. Her hair fell messily on either side of her shoulders, her eyes expressing how unexpected this development was for her. Daphne looked about quickly, taking note of the room and Harry's arms pinning her to the wall. She lowered her head to face the floor, took a deep breath, and flipped her head back up, her hair cascading around her face and shoulders as a result. Harry locked eyes with her and saw playful power in them. She had regained her composure.

Daphne tilted her head to the side and surveyed the young man holding her against her will. Harry watched her, and she licked her lips, drawing his gaze.

"I didn't think you had it in you to be so … upfront, Harry."

"I'm not in the mood for games, Daphne," Harry growled. Daphne's attitude didn't alter. She flicked her head to remove a few strands of her hair out of her face, creating a surprisingly attractive gesture without even trying.

It was pointless, however, for Harry's mind was far from the attractiveness of the fairer gender.

"What's going on?" asked Harry forcefully. Daphne didn't look surprised by the question, probably because she wasn't.

"Now, now, Harry, you have me trapped against a wall in a deserted area of the castle, is Padma all that's on your mind?" replied Daphne in a sweet, calm, seductive voice, so different from her usual tones and yet eerily familiar. Harry's grip tightened on her arms and Daphne felt the first twinge of actual pain. For the first time in the presence of Harry Potter, Daphne was a little distressed. She had never seen him so quietly displeased before, let alone been the target.

"I want to know why you acted like you did to her."

"You're always on aren't you, Harry?" responded Daphne exasperatedly, giving away nothing but a smile.

"Bloody hell, Daphne," whispered Harry, fed up with her consistent attempts at distracting him.

"What part of 'I want to know why you acted the way you did' don't you understand?" Harry demanded. Daphne's smile disappeared instantly, replaced with a glower. The transition was so quick, so smooth, that he barely registered it. Daphne stood herself straight, proud, defiant.

"Potter, this doesn't concern you," was her, typical, cold reply.

"We're on the same side aren't we?" asked Harry, not entirely rhetorically. Daphne didn't answer when Harry paused, not expecting a response but giving her the opportunity for one. "You agreed to join me, and you've had the chance to betray us for weeks, so why now start acting like that to Padma, Hermione and me?"

Daphne's continued silence and unflinching expression was beginning to unnerve Harry. He was still a person who preferred to react more than think, no matter how he'd changed. The young woman he was holding against the wall was able to control her emotions, something, even with Occlumency, he hard a hard time doing. They were very different in the way they dealt with situations. He wasn't used to an impassive foe, and he wasn't certain how to deal with her.

"We _are_ enemies, Potter, or have you forgotten our titles?" stated and inquired Daphne, her eyes regarding him, discerning and noting his reactions.

Harry hesitated. The two maintained their eye contact. Harry's mind flowed furiously, trying to figure out what had changed in the past week to cause this new problem.

Daphne flexed her trapped hands and rolled her head in a circle. It was another surprisingly attractive gesture despite only serving the purpose to relieve some of the strain on trapped limbs and neck.

"Just stay out of it, Potter," Daphne sighed after no response from Harry was forthcoming. "I'm quite capable of handling myself."

"You're… so… stubborn," Harry said frustratingly.

"Let me go, Potter."

"Not till you answer me."

"Potter…" Daphne began, her tone becoming icy and threatening. "I've humored you long enough. Let. Me. Go."

Seeing he wasn't going to get anywhere, Harry slowly relaxed his hold on Daphne. The moment she regained movement of her arms, Daphne pushed Harry back forcefully and gave him a look that would've inspired fear in a lesser man. 

"Slytherins lead completely different lives than you Gryffindors do, Potter," she said in her cold tone. She stepped forward, into his personal space, leaning down beside his ear and whispered, "You are still unable to see things for what they are, Harry. You've a lot to learn."

Then she turned, opened, walked out and then closed the door to the store room, leaving Harry alone. He stood there for several moments thinking just how similar a situation this was to the first time they talked alone together, and pondering what she had meant by her words.

x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning dawned on an exhausted Harry. He tossed and turned all night, mind too preoccupied to let him sleep. It wasn't just Daphne that was bugging him either; it was an entire mixture of matters he didn't even want to be thinking of at daybreak – namely Malfoy and the future beyond him.

Breakfast helped his mood. Hermione and Padma noticed how exhausted he was the moment he sat beside them an hour later. While it was kind of them to fuss, it did grate on his nerves after awhile. Still, their presence was a help.

While he tried to keep his mind from drifting her way, something Harry did notice at breakfast was the absence of Daphne from the table. Every student missed a meal every now and then and that by itself wasn't particularly noteworthy. Whether from being hospitalized, or just sleeping in, other priorities, or any other reason, missing one meal was no big deal, and was soon out of Harry's thoughts.

The day passed slowly. Holidays were great and all, but there was nothing to do in the middle of winter to a student with no homework and no longer enthralled at every turn of a corridor besides converse. It was too cold to go for a flight and Professor's McGonagall and Flitwick needed a break as much as the students did. It would be rather ungrateful of him to ask either of them to teach him more on their time off.

Lunch arrived but Daphne didn't. Lunch was served for an hour period between one and two p.m. and Harry didn't spend the entire time there, though most students ate as soon as they could, so he wasn't sure if she did show or not.

When dinner came and Daphne still wasn't present, try as might have to ignore it, he truly began to wonder where she was. It was rare that any student missed an entire days' worth of meals unless there were extenuating circumstances.

"Oh," Harry said aloud as a possibility hit him.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Padma.

Harry stood up suddenly, not having heard Padma's question. He said, "I'll see you later," before walking off, leaving a confused Hermione and Padma behind him.

"I think he's taking lessons from you," Padma remarked at the sudden departure of their mutual friend.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione after she had swallowed her next bite.

"Leaving suddenly, without any explanation, until whatever conclusion has been confirmed," Padma replied. With a little smile, she said, "You should know that it's really quite annoying."

Hermione looked scandalized for a second. She looked around the hall and quickly noted who wasn't present. "Has it something to do with Daphne again?"

"I assume so," answered Padma absently. She was now staring at the doors to the Entrance Hall, rapidly becoming deep in thought.

"I trust she's on our side," Hermione said determinedly from across the table.

"Never thought otherwise, Hermione," reassured Padma, still facing the doorway. "She's risking a lot with us, you realize." Hermione bit her lip and burrowed her brow in concentration.

"In a Hogwarts House filled with Death Eater sympathizers, and then those that pretend they are to survive, she's an anomaly, Hermione," Padma explained. "There's no one quite like her in this school, let alone the same House. She's going against the grain despite the danger. She isn't letting herself be walked over either." Padma shook her head slowly. "Any one of the other female Slytherin students could attack her in her sleep and any Professor in the castle would be powerless to stop it. I think she has it worse of than any of us, the most to lose."

"And when she insulted you?" asked Hermione, clarifying one final detail of a puzzle the two of them had already solved.

"If I'm right," replied Padma slowly. "It's nothing but an act."

Hermione nodded her confirmation and speared a potato with her fork. As she raised her fork back to mouth, Padma added, "Still, she doesn't have to be so… bitchy about it…"

x-x-x-x-x-

After spending so much time in the Hospital Wing as a patient, it was surprising how rare it was that Harry ever walked there. More often than not he'd be carried while unconscious.

The Hospital Wing looked the same as it always did. Several unusually shaped windows were placed intermittently along the far wall that showered bits and pieces of the room with light during the day. These were now covered with curtains, the room lit by magical means.

Two dozen beds filled up the room, each decked out with the same white sheets, blanket and pillow. In between each bed was a small table for the necessities such as potions and, in Harry's case, glasses, while one slept. All but one of the beds were empty, the final bed surrounded by curtains, where one could safely assume a student lay.

From the other end of the Hospital Wing came the noise of a chair being pushed backwards and someone getting up. A second later Madame Pomfrey entered the Wing from her office at the far end.

"Mr. Potter," the Healer sighed dramatically, disapproval littering her tone. "What scrape have you got yourself into this time dare I ask?" As she spoke, the woman crossed the room and stopped in front of Harry, wand immediately in hand.

"Er – there's nothing wrong with me today, Madame Pomfrey." Harry replied, wary of the wand.

"Oh?" Pomfrey replied skeptically. "Judging from your face you appear to have sleep deprivation. From what I understand you have no homework over break this year, Mr. Potter. What, may I ask, is keeping you up at night if it isn't the horror you kids consider homework?"

Harry shrugged, feeling a little off balance by the questions and general demeanor of the Healer. "Nothing in particular."

"You never were a master of words, were you?" Madame Pomfrey said with a raised eyebrow. "I suggest taking a Dreamless Sleep Potion if you are unable to sleep. It may be holidays, Mr. Potter, but that does not excuse late nights and a lack of sleep."

"I don't have any," replied Harry, taken aback.

"Then ask me for some," she replied firmly. "I'm here to aid you students after all."

Tutting, Madame Pomfrey raised her wand and cast a silent spell on Harry. "Let's see how you are then."

The Healer cast another two spells to an unresisting Harry, as he had come to the conclusion that the woman would not be satisfied unless she had checked him over. Strangely, the spells were evidently the same one as her eyes hardened each time. Finally, after an awkward minute, the woman's eyes softened and she addressed him again, a peculiar smile on her face.

"All seems well, Mr. Potter. Besides a lack of sleep, you're as healthy as one could hope for at this time of year."

_At least it was good to know that_, Harry thought. Mentally dragging his mind back on track, Harry returned to his real reason for being here.

"Uh – Madame Pomfrey, may I visit the patient you have?" asked Harry tentatively. Instantly the Healer's attitude changed.

"Why, may I ask?" she asked with a poorly concealed edge to her voice. Harry was momentarily swayed by the tone; however he solidified his determination an instant afterwards.

"Because, if it's Daphne Greengrass behind those curtains, then I need to know what happened," answered Harry calmly.

"Professor Babbage mentioned you had an altercation with Miss Greengrass in the Great Hall two days ago, Mr. Potter." Pomfrey said curiously. "How am I to know you weren't the one responsible for Miss Greengrass's condition?"

Harry gave the Healer an odd look. "You are aware you just practically told me that it _is_ Daphne behind those curtains, aren't you?" At that the Healer paused, sighed and shook her head. "And you know me better than that," Harry continued, undeterred. "You've known me long enough to know I'm the one more likely to receive injuries than give them out."

Conceding his point, the Healer stepped aside and let Harry through.

"I must admit that seeing you and a Slytherin of all people, Mr. Potter, together is rather odd."

"You and me both, Madame Pomfrey," Harry quipped, after a moments thought.

With the Healer appeased, at least temporarily, he could tell she would be watching the two of them closely, Harry passed several unoccupied beds, stopping front of the occupied one. Pausing a moment, Harry took a breath and pulled the curtains aside.

"Well, we meet again, Potter," Daphne said half-heartedly sarcastically, unsurprised as well, the moment he laid eyes on her.

She looked terrible. There wasn't any other way to say it.

The blonde hair that was normally sleek, straightened and one of the female's best features, was now a mess, framing her face with odds and ends sticking up everywhere. Her brown eyes were filled with several red patches, much like his own had been after being subjected to the Cruciatus earlier in the year. A dark bruise was coming through strongly on her right cheek, a second on her jaw and a third on the tiny piece of skin that Harry could see below her neck before the Hospital gown covered the rest of her not under hospital bed sheets.

He didn't believe for a second that what he could see was the extent of her injuries.

"You stood me up on our dinner date, Daphne, how could I not come wandering about for you?" he responded. It was an attempt at humor, but his voice didn't have a trace of humor in it.

Harry took a step forward and closed the curtains behind him. He drew up a chair and sat beside the Hospital bed. Daphne watched him, a neutral, guarded expression on her face. She had not responded in any way to his previous remark.

"What happened?" asked Harry, the question inevitable.

"None of your business," Daphne replied sharply. She gave him a contemptuous look, and turned away to study her bed sheets in great detail. Harry sighed. This was going to take some time.

"You don't have to act all high and mighty to me when you're in a Hospital bed," Harry said, watching the turned away face of the Slytherin for any trace of a reaction. There was nothing forthcoming, however.

Daphne reached – gingerly, Harry noted – over to her beside table and picked her wand.

Wait, what?

Harry tensed as Daphne pointed her wand is his direction. He was about to speak up when she switched her attention to something behind him. She flicked her wand and the curtains behind Harry closed quickly and completely, and then glowed briefly. It took Harry several seconds to realize she had blocked off the outside from overhearing.

"We've been over this –" Daphne started, lowering her wand.

"Yeah, we have," Harry interrupted tiredly. "I've heard it all. You don't want me to know, Slytherin problems are Slytherin problems, I don't understand, but I don't give a damn about that," he went on angrily. "Look where you are, Daphne. You're in the bloody Hospital Wing because of whatever this is. Just act like you are my friend for once and tell me what happened."

Daphne's neutral expression slipped for a moment, just a moment, but Harry caught it. For a brief second he saw an appreciative look on her face. It had been there so quickly that he almost missed it. Yet it was a start. It was more than he had when he had entered the room. There was a chance, a small chance, that he could get answers from this young woman yet.

"I told you, you shouldn't get involved…" she whispered, still refusing to look at him.

"And I'm choosing to be anyway," Harry completed. "Remind you of anything?" He left that hanging in the air for a moment before adding, "I warned you lot loads of times and now look where we are. Friends help one another. How do you think I got this far?"

To nobody's surprise, not that there was anyone listening except Harry, Daphne remained silent. Harry sat in silence as well, waiting for Daphne to make the next move.

"You're not as smart as I thought, Potter," Daphne said after awhile. Harry sent her a blank look. That was not an answer he had expected. "I told you to stay out of it when we started this whole venture. I suppose since I'm a Slytherin," she continued, her head lolling to her right to face Harry, her voice icy, but tired and, if Harry wasn't wishful hearing, hurt too. "That my word doesn't count for much with you lot?"

Harry bristled, annoyed at her insinuation. That was a low blow, a really low blow. A minimal five years of prejudice was a hard habit to break for some, though Harry had believed he had been, and was, fair to her. The others had different positions in this debate, but the majority was tolerant of her.

"We're hardly perfect," he admitted. "That doesn't mean I'm not trying here. Is that a good enough reason to shut me… us out?"

"What gives you the right to pry into my life?" Daphne retorted, facing him head on. "You offered your life for us to view, that doesn't mean we'll do the same for you. Some of us have parts of our lives that we want secret from everyone. Don't think for a moment that we all don't have our own skeletons to hide."

"So that's it, is it?" half-asked Harry. "You wind up in here; you won't offer a reason why. And if it happens again, should we expect the same, or worse?"

Daphne examined Harry, her eyes moving slowly, precisely over his face. Harry stood his ground, his expression set in fierce determination. He wasn't even one hundred percent certain why he was bothering so much with her given her past and present attitude. Sometimes that train of thought went beyond simple communication problems.

"Was it Malfoy's group?" asked Harry directly.

"Who do you think it was?"

"That charm of yours works so well. It's no wonder you're so popular."

"Thanks, it took a fair bit of practice," Daphne replied sarcastically, lolling her head back against her pillows, facing the ceiling.

"I'm sure it did. We done or shall we continue?"

"Continue of course. Who doesn't love a good round of insulting each other?" Daphne responded in the same tone he'd come to expect.

Relaxing back into his chair, Harry settled in for a long visit. She was probably berating herself internally for letting slip a moment earlier. Still, she was injured and in a hospital bed. There was far more chance now than ever to get answers from her, even if he had to work for it.

"So tell me about life in the House of Slytherin," Harry said absently. "Got any interesting gossip for me?"

Daphne faced and stared at him like he was something she'd seen expelled from an animal.

_Right, didn't have her pinned as a gossiper._

"Males? Any books or games interest you? Sports?" further questioned Harry. "Got any interests at all besides having an attitude to everyone? Before the DA of course," he added rather belatedly. He was playing her game now, albeit rather poorly in comparison. The only person he regularly traded insults with seemed to be on hiatus pending further matches due to a certain evil wizard hounding him to get a job done.

Again, Daphne just stared at him like something she'd seen expelled from an animal.

"Ever been in a relationship?" he queried further. "Becoming more a focus in everyone's lives lately, it seems." No answer.

"Or has someone dumped you and you no longer are interested?" he went on precariously, hoping to step on a nerve.

"Someone dump _me_?" Daphne scoffed, finally speaking again. "A likely story, Potter," It seemed he succeeded, though, oddly, her words sounded forced.

"There we go, a response," Harry remarked brightly. "That's a good step. Now, are you going to answer my question?"

"Get real," was all the response he got. _Round three,_ Harry thought sarcastically.

"You know, I'm not leaving until I get an answer," Harry said out of the blue, twiddling his thumbs. "I can get meals whenever I want thanks to Dobby and I have a decent enough relationship with Madame Pomfrey to get her to let me stay longer than any others would be allowed too."

Now that last part was a bluff, but Daphne didn't need to know that. Putting everything he had into keeping his expression from betraying him, he continued to watch Daphne as he had been before.

"So, by saying that it's 'a likely story'," Harry went on, using air quotes. "You must have been in a relationship before, correct?" Daphne was silent.

"Okay, let's take that as a yes then." Harry nodded. "Care to explain what happened? We can hardly talk mine; everyone already knows everything about Cho."

"Don't forget Delacour," Daphne added helpfully. Harry nearly winced but restrained himself. Bad territory, that was.

"Well?" asked Harry.

No response.

"Fine, let's talk something else," Harry conceded amicably.

"How's life at home? What were you up to before Hogwarts?" He paused. "For that matter, what do purebloods _do_ before Hogwarts?

Daphne lifted her right hand, startling Harry, and brushed a strand of hair off of her face. Her Hospital gown slipped down a little and Harry saw raw flesh on her wrist. A deep anger rose within him. Whoever did this was going to hurt for it.

"Who did this to you, Daphne?" again asked Harry, this time some of his anger seeping into his voice. The blonde girl laid her arm back down beside her and stared back at Harry.

There was a long silence.

"When I was in Muggle primary school," Harry continued after Daphne didn't respond. "I was the outcast there, the one that everyone would avoid, the one that nobody would talk to and the one that everyone feared to be near. Nobody would pick me for any teams for games until I was the last one there and they were forced to. I was always left out of everything in the breaks between classes and I never had a friend. Why do you think that was?"

He patiently waited a moment in case Daphne would answer, not that he had any high hopes that she would. Still, keeping her on edge, waiting to hear the next part would help. He could tell she was listening. He'd watched enough people throughout his last five years to know that much.

"My cousin prevented anyone getting near me," Harry continued. "When I first started school, a number of people did try to befriend me, but Dudley would scare them away. Those that were more persistent got beaten up and were there on out too scared to come near me. It's not worth it, is it, to get near to someone only to get beaten up for it."

"You already know that I came here friendless, half-starved and completely oblivious to the magical word," he went on, just watching the female before him from his chair as if this was a normal occurrence. "Well Dudley managed to keep everyone away from me for years. During those years, Dudley grew larger, stronger and a gang formed behind him. Nobody would cross Dudley and his gang. If you did, the results were painful."

"Then the people that had formerly tried to befriend me fell in the line behind him, not wanting to risk his wrath again, and instead chose to become a part of the problem." Harry said darkly.

This was the first time he had been exposed to one of the glaring weaknesses in humanity – how people could fall in behind the powerful instead of fighting for what was right, choosing the easy road instead, no matter the consequences, ignoring their morality and conscience. The magical world was no different in that respect. Few stood up to Voldemort and his Death Eaters because of the power they wielded. While the number of the general public who actually believed in Voldemort's pureblood nonsense was the minority, the majority wouldn't dare speak out for fear of repercussions. But that was a part of Voldemort's, and to a lesser extent Snape's, power, the power to spread fear, fear so great that no one would dare stand against it. Because of that, both men could walk all over those in their way without much chance of consequence.

"Those people," he continued in the same voice. "Began to act like Dudley, keeping everyone away from me and giving me a hard time, day in, day out for as long as I can remember. That hurt. To see the people who tried to befriend me laugh at me, insult me and aid Dudley in whatever fun way to terrorize me he thought up for the day… well, it wasn't a positive sight."

"The magical world was a second chance, and I jumped on the first chance I got to become friends with someone. Ron."

"Malfoy is like the Dudley of Hogwarts to me," Harry said, leaning forward, elbows propping himself up on his knees, staring into the bed sheets. Daphne was still eyeing him as he spoke. "And Ron, despite threats, stayed with me. It was a new experience, having someone stay on my side after being at Muggle School for so long. So, at the time, I knew I could trust him."

Harry faced the floor for a moment, letting the last part hang in the air. He then faced Daphne again and was surprised to find he still had an audience.

"Part of the reason I didn't want to do anything to Ron or Ginny, Daphne, is because they both had been friends, both had helped me when they needn't have. The Department of Mysteries alone deserved at least some sympathy."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

"I have no idea what's happened in your life, Daphne," Harry said calmly, regaining eye contact. "I know next to nothing about you, even though I've known you for three months. You're right. It's your life. I volunteered mine; I don't expect you to do the same for me. Everyone has secrets and I can imagine you may have more than the rest of us."

Harry, hands on knees, wrung his hands together. "From what I understand, Slytherins have few actual friends. There are more followers than friends. The way you… operate, I suppose, doesn't exactly inspire trust."

"On that note, if the DA is your first source of friendship in some time, let us do what friends do for one another."

Harry leant further forwards on his chair and looked closely at Daphne's face, a meter apart, yet the closest he had been to her when she wasn't testing him in her own little way.

Seconds ticked by silently. Harry hoped and prayed that she would respond. If she didn't there was no more point in trying to speak with her. Here she was, injured in a hospital bed and still refused any semblance of aid from him.

For a long, long moment, the two of them said nothing, merely watching each other closely. Brown and green eyes examined each other closely, barely stopping moving for a moment, though never letting up in intensity.

Then after what seemed ten minutes, Daphne opened her mouth to say something.

"My parents …" she whispered softly, not looking away. "… Were Death Eaters,"

"Were?" Harry repeated questioningly. _Past tense?_

"They quit," Daphne said softly and bluntly. "Or… have tried to at least."

Harry was already deeply interested. It was with no lack of irony that he found himself on the opposite end of his own tactic. He'd wanted Daphne to talk, to ask what happened next with his own story and here was Daphne, getting him interested with a mere eight words. To be honest, though, her story would be more interesting than his.

He didn't move, continuing to examine the face of the young woman in front of him, watching and waiting for her to continue.

"Tried to?" asked Harry, as the silence continued and he was unable to wait any longer. Daphne held his intense gaze, and then came to a conclusion.

"No, I've said enough," Daphne said suddenly, looking away.

"Daphne," sighed Harry, running a hand through his hair and leaning back into his chair, resisting the urge to shout out in frustration. _Damn! So close._

"Your concern is unwarranted and unwanted, Potter," said Daphne firmly, though without her usual malice and, as before, it sounded forced. Still, her hand tightened around her wand, which, Harry noted, had never been out of her grasp since she had touched it. Harry, hands still over his head, grabbed fistfuls of his hair and was almost going to attempt to pull his hair out before he calmed himself.

"Okay, let's say for a second that, with your attitude to us, you actually give a damn about someone besides yourself," started Harry angrily, leaning forward. "There are people who give a damn about you. Are you just going to shove that in their faces?"

"Shut it, Potter, just leave me alone," Daphne retorted, getting angry herself, and showing the first signs of emotion other than apathy.

"You know what, fine," replied Harry, standing up. "Next time you go missing, I'll leave you alone. I won't try and find out if you're alright. I suggest you leave Hogwarts if you are going to be attacked by your housemates. If you can't even live in your own dorm and have nobody you care about here, you don't have any reason to stay, do you? You purebloods can easily afford tutors, so what's keeping you here?"

Harry stared into Daphne's eyes again from above her. For the second time ever, he saw apprehensiveness in her eyes and it made him hesitate, again, and he nearly hated himself for it. Her attitude when amongst the others wasn't unlike this but it was more subdued, and had become accustomed to. Here, it was infuriating. Here, it was unbearable. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to leave her here, yet something in him held him back just a little longer.

"Potter – Harry," Daphne corrected herself quietly. This wasn't what she wanted, not at all. Everything was falling apart. Why couldn't he just damn accept her standpoint and leave her be?

Harry stood rooted to the spot, waiting for her to continue, if she would at all.

More than once, her mouth opened and then closed, no sound escaping each time. It looked like she wanted to say something, but then changed her mind at the last second in each instance.

Harry waited a full minute for nothing. He turned on the spot, facing back towards the curtains, away from Daphne. "I don't even know why you agreed to join the DA in the first place. Evidently you don't have any ties with us. Consider yourself out." Harry paused a moment, waiting for a response that he knew wouldn't come.

"Goodnight Daphne, I hope you get better soon."

And with that, he took a step, opened the curtains, canceling the charms on it, and closed them behind him, sighing silently as he did. _What a complete, utter waste of time._

He had not gone six steps when he heard a pair of feet hitting the floor. Expecting Madame Pomfrey to ambush him again, he was surprised to find Daphne standing, shakily, heavily favoring her right leg, on her feet between the curtains to her bed.

Shock was the feature he knew was registered on his face and he did not try to hide it.

Daphne nodded her head back in the direction of her bed. She waited a moment, watching Harry and then, gingerly, disappeared from view. Harry followed; still rather surprised she had come after him, even a few steps out of her bed, which, by the look of it, took a great effort.

By the time Harry was in-between the curtains again, Daphne was back on her bed. For a brief moment he saw another bruise, this time on the side of her shin on her left leg. The blonde's eyes flashed warningly towards Harry for a moment, who took no notice.

"How bad is it all?" he asked.

"I don't want your pity, Potter," she replied harshly, the offending leg disappearing under the sheets as she spoke. With her right hand she tried to cover herself properly in the sheets again. Harry, still standing by the bed, knocked her arm away, earning a glare in retaliation.

"Lie down," Harry ordered. Daphne looked about to fight him, but she stopped herself and reluctantly obeyed. Harry covered the girl with the sheets and retook his seat, resuming his study of the girl.

"It's not pity, by the way," said Harry airily. "It's called compassion. You should learn about it." Daphne ignored him, choosing instead to shuffle about in her bed, trying to regain a comfortable position. Harry became silent, patiently waiting for Daphne to talk. She must have something to say to have gotten out of bed for him.

It took several minutes for any more words to be exchanged.

"My parents joined Voldemort around two years before the night he came after you." Daphne said. She was one of the few people Harry had met that never had a problem speaking the name without any semblance of fear. It wasn't in the personality that he knew to fear a name, no matter the man or woman behind it.

"They were twenty-one and nineteen, foolish, still rather immature, and were caught up in the pureblood supremacy beliefs that so many others were at the time, and many retain today."

"Mum was pregnant with me," Daphne went on, facing the ceiling again. Harry sat idly by, interested, but wary. This alone was not enough for him to forgive her for her attitude. "And both thought that Voldemort was going to win the war. You need to remember that until that Halloween he attacked the Potters, he was winning."

"Those that stood against Voldemort died, plain and simple. Working with him, you would live, plain and simple." Daphne lolled her head to the side again, facing Harry. "My parents know… ways… of earning money, quickly."

"Illegally," Harry said quietly. Daphne didn't confirm or deny the statement.

"That was useful to Voldemort and he recruited them," continued Daphne. "They don't wear Dark Marks. Their tasks were not grand enough to for them to receive that _honor_."

_That answers a few questions_, Harry thought. It explained why he had never heard of the Greengrass family being involved with the Death Eaters and explained why they were still free despite working with the Death Eaters. No Dark Mark, no obvious connection.

"Then Voldemort disappeared and my parents were afraid they would be connected to him, so they laid low and managed to escape the round up of stray Death Eaters over the next year," Daphne explained. "Since then, Mum and Dad have been strictly legal in all their dealings. A few years back, when they believed I was old enough to understand, they sat me down and told me everything."

"I did and do understand." Daphne stated with absolute certainty.

"Now, he's back. My parents were contacted by Lucius Malfoy sometime during the summer after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He wanted the money. Running a war doesn't come cheap."

"Neither of them wants to follow him anymore, and yet they can't just leave. It doesn't work like that." Daphne was quiet after that statement, her face for once betraying her emotions.

"When you want out or you have no more use, you're expendable," Harry summarized. Daphne nodded a quick confirmation.

"Our beloved Death Eater wannabes decided that because I had not shown loyalty to the 'Dark Lord'," she continued, sarcastically using air quotes with her right hand for the last words. "That I needed _encouragement_ to make my decision."

"That's why you're involved with Malfoy and the entire Oaths matter," Harry said, sighing, realization hitting him like a cold shower.

"Took you long enough, Potter," she said insultingly.

"Didn't exactly have much to go on, did I?" he retorted distastefully. Daphne glared at him a moment, her untamed hair covering the right side of her face. The two took deep breaths and managed to prevent another round of insults.

"Malfoy, Nott and Parkinson believed that if I was _gently_ thrust into the work of the Dark Lord, I would join their side," Daphne scoffed.

"They would blackmail you," Harry figured, thinking through what she was telling him. "Say you worked for them if you continued to back out."

"And it would work," Daphne agreed. "The first inkling that someone worked for Voldemort would get the Ministry on their ass instantly. I could go out to a bar and pretend I know what Voldemort's planning, just for the sake of getting attention, and be arrested for it." 

"Stan Shunpike," Harry said solemnly. Daphne nodded another confirmation.

"I had no real choice at the beginning, so I had to go along with the Oath," Daphne explained. "It appeased them for awhile. Problem was that I took no active role in aiding them. Then Crabbe and Goyle, showing their intellect, agreed to lure you into the Forbidden Forest and aid Yaxley in capturing you." Daphne sighed. "Yet another arrogant, pathetic wreck of a man that dares call himself a pureblood…"

"And Malfoy realized he was two followers short," Harry concluded. "So he started taking more notice of his remaining 'allies', including you and your lack of help."

"I knew he was watching me, paying attention to what I was up to," Daphne said into the silence. "I half expected to find him watching me in the showers, the bastard."

Harry couldn't resist imagining what Daphne would've done to Malfoy had that actually happened, knowing her temper quite well. He chuckled a few times before sobering up quickly, and not because of the glare Daphne gave him. The more perverted, teenager side of his mind started focusing on what the blonde would look like in the shower, without the interruption.

"At first I would just ignore him or… persuade to him leave off," Daphne went on, aware of but ignoring where Harry's trail of thought had lead to. "That worked for awhile. Obviously, it didn't last. He clearly got impatient and sent the others to attack me in my sleep, like the cowards he and they are."

"And because of all that, here I am and here we are," she ended darkly. Harry was silent for several moments.

This was the first time he had heard anything about Daphne's past and was very surprised to now know what he did. Her parents were part-time Death Eaters who no longer wanted in and were trying to get out. There were so many problems associated with that knowledge that he didn't know where to begin.

_She must be worried about them_, Harry thought. And possibly because of that, she wasn't acting herself lately. The student body had proved themselves to be observant on certain matters. It would only take one person to notice Daphne not being her usual self to spark a chain of events that led to the result in front of Harry now, even if Malfoy himself hadn't noticed.

"Okay…" Harry said aloud, unsure of what to say now. This situation was a first for him, one of many this year.

"Don't torment yourself over it, Potter, I don't expect you to say something and make everything rainbows and sing-a-longs," Daphne said sarcastically, though it lacked any enthusiasm. They were merely words she spoke and did not mean. She then added bitterly, "The world doesn't work that way."

For a second time she raised her right hand and brushed several strands of her hair off of her face.

"You're not using your left hand for anything," Harry observed. "Why not?" Daphne looked at her right hand, replaced it on the bed, and examined her left.

"Broken?" questioned Harry. Daphne nodded.

"Not supposed to move it much."

"How bad is it all?" he asked again, hoping for a better response this time.

"Left arm was broken, fractured leg, couple dozen bruises," she responded shortly, as if admitting she was hurt made her weak.

"May I?" asked Harry quietly, leaning forward, his eyes on the bruises visible on her face and neck.

"May you what?" asked back Daphne, wary.

"Look where you are hurt," he replied. Daphne examined him for a long moment, whether judging his honesty or contemplating the ramifications, Harry didn't know.

Without speaking a word, she sat up, gingerly moved her legs out from underneath the sheets and made to make a little room for Harry to sit on the bed. Saving her the trouble, Harry withdrew his wand and cast a mild Enlargement Charm on the bed, creating a king sized bed in its place.

He stood up and, apprehensively, sat down on the bed beside Daphne. She faced him from her side of the bed, Harry sitting on his. He reached out and, hesitantly, touched the girl on the cheek. Daphne closed her eyes and flinched slightly, whether from the pain or merely from the contact, again, Harry didn't know.

He brushed his hand gently down her check, softly tracing a line down to her neck, where the only other bruise he could see was. Her breath hitched as Harry's hand made its way down her neck, but there was no ill intent here, not like that she had experienced the previous night.

"Where else?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"More a question of where didn't they," Daphne replied as quietly as Harry had. She shuffled on her spot, facing side-on to Harry. Harry saw her wince as she moved her back straight at the time. She slouched forward immediately.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked as he shuffled behind her and reached out to gently stroke her back. He hesitated, not knowing whether the gesture would be more painful than helpful, or even wanted at all.

"I'm fine," Daphne growled in response. Harry could tell the opposite were true.

"Haven't you been giving something for the pain?"

"I have, but it was some time ago now. I'll probably be forced to take that Dreamless Sleep crap soon," Daphne replied softly.

Harry raised his eyebrows but didn't question her attitude towards the potion.

"I had an allergic reaction to it when I was younger," Daphne told him willingly. "The allergy is gone now, but I still don't like it."

The two fell into a silence, broken only by their breathing. Harry's eyes roamed the visible portion of Daphne's skin, searching for other visible injuries. He breathed in and could smell something sweet coming from Daphne he knew but couldn't place.

"Why haven't your bruises been healed?" he asked, noticing the tip of another one on her left shoulder, hidden by her hair. "I know the broken leg will take some time but these…"

Daphne raised a hand and brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "The leg was the priority. I took a Pain Relieving Potion soon after coming here so the bruises didn't become a nuisance, and I took a potion for them about a half hour ago. They should disappear soon. The leg should be fine tomorrow."

.

Harry sat thoughtfully for a minute. He'd heard sentiments from Su and Padma recently about the limitations of healing magic.

"How do wizards live so long? I mean Dumbledore would likely be dead if he were a Muggle."

"Magic is able to slow the deterioration of cells and organs. Again, it isn't limitless. The body itself has limits," Daphne explained with surprising patience. It disappeared, however, then, and her face hardened. "Are we done with the questions?"

Harry glared at her. "Excuse me for not knowing this. I didn't grow up like you did and have all the knowledge you purebloods got."

For once Daphne didn't retort.

Harry sat back up and Daphne brushed some of her hair behind her ear again. Another silence filled the room.

"What happened?" asked Harry eventually, hoping for a more positive response this time. Daphne moved, gingerly, back under the sheets and leant on her pillows against the headboard. Harry sat next to her, leaning on his hand and facing her.

"I was complacent," Daphne said softly.

"Nobody is in complete control of a situation, Daphne," replied Harry. "They would have done this sooner or later to someone if not you."

"The thing with Padma," she said remorsefully, a tone of voice Harry was not afraid to admit was new to him from this young woman. He crossed his legs and leant forward, listening. "I let myself become… friendly… with you lot and it affected me. I didn't spend any time harassing any students like I used to and that's how they got on to me. I tried to rectify that. It wasn't enough. It was already too late for me to redeem myself at that point. That's why I'm here."

"Was it just Parkinson and Nott?" asked Harry, searching her face intensely.

"Who else?" she brushed another bit of her long, bountiful blonde hair over her shoulder.

"Yes. Who else could it have been?" she laughed humorlessly. "I was asleep when they caught me. I couldn't do _anything_. Parkinson tied me to the bed posts," she rubbed her wrists, "and, somehow, Nott made it into the dorm and took turns expressing their point of view, verbally and not-so."

"Did they…?"

"No," Daphne replied. "Not this time at least. Their confidence has probably risen a fair bit because of this, especially when they'll get away with it."

Harry scowled. "Why will they get away with this?"

"Think about it, Harry," Daphne sighed. She slouched further into her bed and stared at him. "Who controls Parkinson and Nott?"

"Malfoy does," Harry answered immediately.

"Correct," Daphne agreed. "Think about how our beloved Headmaster has refused to heed your warnings and keep Malfoy at Hogwarts. Do you really think that this will change anything?"

Harry would have protested before this year. Instead, he let her continue unhindered.

"And Snape?" mock questioned Daphne. "Snape ratting on Malfoy to Dumbledore isn't happening. Any witnesses coming forward against Snape or Malfoy? Not happening. Me going to Dumbledore and telling him who did this to me, the end result the three of them getting expelled for it? Not happening. You said it yourself earlier this year, Harry, Dumbledore won't lift a finger against the arrogant prick unless he does something positively damming in front of a rather large audience. That didn't happen so Malfoy gets off for it."

"That's completely unfair."

"You out of all the people here should have understood that life can be quite unfair long ago, Harry." Daphne brushed aside another strand of hair and faced Harry. She looked tired. Her pride, too, had taken a beating.

Harry didn't reply this time. Instead he sat, thoughtful. Daphne leant back into her pillow and closed her eyes. Her hand was still on her wand.

"Can you still stay in the same dorm now that you're in danger from your housemates?" asked Harry.

"To them, I've been taught my lesson," Daphne answered, her eyes still closed. "I won't be bothered again… or at least for awhile."

"Why do you treat people the way you do?" ventured Harry. "Especially us, when we've been trying to be friendly to you."

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?" replied Daphne testily. Harry scowled. Daphne sighed and opened her eyes. "When you come from my background, Harry, you have to expect to know a number of bad people. If you want to succeed, if you want to be left alone, if you want to be safe, you can not be timid. Few people would dare to bother me, and Nott and Parkinson only did because of who their master is."

"That doesn't explain why you treat us the same," Harry said. Daphne faced him.

"Surely you have noticed how your friends view me? I'm a Slytherin, Harry. We are the origins of more Dark wizards than any other house. Of course I'm going to be one too. How could anyone think otherwise?"

Harry began to understand. He didn't like the answers.

"Your friends treated me with hostility," Daphne said evenly. "I have only responded to the same treatment I have been subjected too. McMillan, Bones and Abbot, they continue to treat me warily, if not outright antagonistic. Patil doesn't anymore. Granger wants to believe me. Li and Lovegood don't care from what I can tell. You understand now?"

"Yeah, I do." _Too well, in fact._

"I will treat them as they treat me, Harry. I've entertained them for long enough. They need to learn that I'm not the enemy, or I will leave. That's all."

Harry didn't like her logic, but he could understand. Perhaps he would have become the same had he continued to be subjected to the hostility he knew for much of his childhood at the Dursley's. Her half-hearted threat to leave, however, brought up a question he had asked before.

"Why did you join the DA?" deadpanned Harry. Daphne examined his face, searching for something – a motive, perhaps, or simply giving herself time to think through her words.

"I want out, Harry, I want out of here," Daphne replied. "I'm tired of it. I'm tired of having to live on edge, tired of having to be careful what I say around everyone, tired of fearing what will happen if my parents are attacked, tired of watching Bones, Abbot, Patil … everyone … being able to sit together and talk, and nobody cares. While you lot are having fun together, I'm on the sidelines. I can't join you; I'd be attacked again for associating with muggleborns and, especially, you. My parents would be killed if I did. All I want is this to end."

Harry sat in silence.

"Do you know what life is like in Slytherin?" she asked rhetorically. "Everyone is always on edge, watching everyone else, waiting for someone to make a wrong move, say a wrong thing, make a mistake or reveal a weakness. Then they are pounced upon and are blackmailed or humiliated because of it. This is our lives. Our ambitions are more important than friendship or morality. Every Slytherin has an ambition, Harry, even I do." Daphne looked deep into Harry's eyes. "I am the same. My ambition is second only to my family."

Harry nodded, a trail of goosebumps appearing on his arms and legs, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He understood her perfectly. Her ambition was more important to her than he was. She wouldn't hesitate in betraying them if it served her purpose. Daphne was a dangerous person, as anyone would be when on their own side. She was dangerous to him even though she wanted Voldemort gone. Harry felt out of his depth with her, not for the first time.

"What about my roommates, you may ask. Bulstrode, well, nobody talks to her. Davis is too wrapped up in her voyeuristic tendencies, following student sex lives – oh, yes, there are sex lives here, Harry – to pay any attention to anything else. Parkinson doesn't need an explanation, nor do the rest of my fellow sixth years. The few that don't support Voldemort, out of personal desire or simple fear, are too afraid themselves to stand up against Malfoy and his group."

"Long ago I ceased to enjoy Hogwarts, Harry," said Daphne quietly. "Do you want to know why I agreed to join the DA? I did for several reasons. Because of my parents, and having intellect, I know Voldemort isn't after pureblood supremacy. If he wins the war, wizard kind in Britain will never be the same. He'll tear it apart. Whatever he sells as his tag line to the purebloods, vampires, werewolves and giants will be scrapped and they'll meet the same fate as those that stood against him. Now that I know the prophecy, I know the entire wizarding world will never be the same if he does win."

"And the other reasons?" asked Harry.

"I want out of here," Daphne repeated simply. "That's enough. If nothing else, joining you would allow me to learn a lot about you, and that first hand information can be priceless. I want Voldemort gone too, for different reasons, of course, but we aren't on opposite sides of this war out there. And," she added with satisfaction. "I knew you wouldn't be around here for much longer from what you told me. This works out quite well for me."

Harry was silent, absorbing all that she'd said. He didn't know what to say in response to such proclamations, or what her ambition was either. For whatever reason, she'd told him quite a bit about herself. What was the purpose behind that? Did she want trust? To make sure he would keep her with him? If anything, he would trust her less. There were so many questions and so few answers.

"On that," Harry eventually began. "What can we do about Malfoy?"

Finding out whatever was going on with Malfoy seemed hopeless without just plain forcing it out of him. That would get him expelled. Harry would put it off as long as he could, but that day was quickly coming unless another avenue opened for him.

Sensing his thoughts, she said, "I know you're hesitant to outright confront him. That would be the most effective route, I hope you understand."

He did. Too well, in fact. The days where petty exchanges of words and spells would solve their disputes with each other were long past. A whole new game at arisen, a whole new set of rules, a whole new set of stakes, and the solution wasn't without great consequences anymore.

"Your main alternative is what you are doing now, then," Daphne continued. "Wait until he makes a mistake. Confronting without the intention to do more than throw words won't work. This leaves these two options." She sighed. "Either way, your window will eventually close. Don't wait too long."

"I know." And he really did know.

Harry checked his new watch and was surprised to see more than an hour had passed. "I'd best go. I've probably pushed the visiting time limit as it is."

Daphne nodded at him and shuffled back down under her covers, closing her eyes once more. Her wand lay beside her but she no longer held it. Harry stopped himself from trying to figure her out and bade her farewell.

As he was leaving, Daphne said one last thing. "If you mention any part of this conversation, or what you did or saw to anyone, prophecy or no prophecy, I will not rest until I have -"

"- killed me, castrated me, tortured me with various utensils," Harry interrupted her quickly. "I get the idea. Let's just leave that to be a surprise, shall we?"

He left before she could formulate a suitable response.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey's voice echoed throughout the Hospital Wing before he had gotten a dozen steps. She was suddenly standing right behind him. "I assume whatever communication was needed with Ms. Greengrass was in her best interests and not in the ones that gave her those injuries?" Harry nodded. That was certainly a part of their conversation. "I also assume you wish for me to not divulge that you have visited Ms. Greengrass?" Harry nodded a second time.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. "Try and stay out of here, Mr. Potter. While I enjoy your company, I have no wish to see you in my beds ever again."

"I'll do what I can," Harry replied with a small grimace.

Nodding, Pomfrey brushed past the curtains surrounding Daphne's bed and began talking to her in a low voice. Sighing, Harry left the two to their own devices and exited the Hospital Wing, mind preoccupied with absorbing Daphne's words to his memory. At the first corner on his trip back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry, in his distracted state, literally ran into a short-ish girl with short, light brown hair and brown eyes. The two of them managed to steady themselves before they fell. Harry stared at the girl and, his mind still on Daphne, took a moment to recognize her from last time.

"Megan? Megan Jones?" Harry asked, perplexed. He rarely saw her, probably because he hadn't had many classes with her in his five and a bit years of education and she was a quiet one that kept to herself, as far as he was aware. The only other time the two had really communicated was the last time the two had collided near here.

"Harry," she responded, surprised, eyes doing a once over of his body. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a question for Madame Pomfrey," he lied quickly. No one needed to know he'd been speaking with Daphne.

"Oh, well, see you round then." Megan replied before dodging past him and entered the Hospital Wing.

Shaking the meeting from his mind, Harry trekked back to Gryffindor Tower. His mind was never far from Daphne, her past, her ambition, and how she, no matter her attitude, interested him.

x-x-x-x-x-

The following day heralded few events worth recalling. Hermione and Padma wanted to know what Daphne had said, but Harry had, obeying Daphne's somewhat odd threat, apologized and replied that he couldn't. Neither particularly liked that response. He explained why and that Daphne and he had sorted everything out. Hermione and Padma accepted the facts reluctantly.

This compliance with her wishes had nothing to do with the retribution Daphne would rain down upon him if he said anything. Nothing at all.

His night after the conversation had been interesting, to say the least. With Voldemort no longer interfering with his mind, causing visions in his sleep, Harry was free to dream whatever his mind chose and, due to the events of the day, chose to pay tribute to Daphne Greengrass. His dreams were strange, maneuvering and meandering in no particular direction. However, there was one aspect that made him feel rather uncomfortable the following morning.

Daphne was released from the Hospital Wing sometime the following morning. She was met with numerous glances from her fellow students upon her return to the Great Hall for lunch. As per usual, she ignored everything except what she decided was worth her attention. In this case it was her meal.

More than once Harry found himself tuning in and out to whatever Hermione and Padma were talking about. There was something about this year that caused the females in his life to take the forefront of his mind constantly, for one reason or another. It had Fleur for what felt such a long time, and now his attention was now on the blonde Slytherin. He caught himself and started suppressing the thoughts when the two females he sat with started asking why he kept spacing off.

The morning after Daphne's release from the Hospital Wing saw his attention return to more child friendly topics, such other thoughts driven out by the next event of a great many in recent months. Among the flurry of owls that entered the Great Hall at precisely eight a.m. every morning, day in, day out, was an official looking owl heading straight for Harry. The owl landed gracefully on the single table for students in the hall and held out its leg for Harry to remove the letter.

Harry, taken aback by the appearance of the owl, took a moment to get his mind back online enough to remove the letter. The owl hooted, stole a sip of pumpkin juice from the pitcher and took flight, leaving immediately.

The letter was in a white envelope, sealed on the back with a stamp of a ridiculously overdone handwritten version of the capital letter 'M'.

_This is new_, Harry found himself thinking. _What have I done at Hogwarts that requires the Ministry to send me a letter?_

Hermione and Padma gave Harry curious glances when he hesitated in opening the letter. They weren't the only one. Everyone had seen the important looking owl, the purebloods and several half bloods recognizing it as a Ministry owl. They were rather well known for looking stern and, apparently, being far more arrogant than other owls.

He broke the seal carefully and removed the letter. Discarding the envelope, Harry leant forward, elbows on the table, and read the letter.

_Mr. Harry James Potter_

_The Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, requests a meeting on Hogwarts grounds tomorrow at two p.m. If you are unable to attend, please respond swiftly and a change of date and time will be arranged to suit your requirements._

_Shirley Temperlent_

_Secretary to the Minister of Magic_

Harry scowled as he read the last line. The Ministry owl had already departed. Scrimgeour wasn't exactly giving him much of a choice in the matter.

He also had no significant warning of the impending visit and Harry did not like that at all.

"Terrific," muttered Harry, chucking the note back on the table and discarding his glasses, rubbing his eyes. Hermione and Padma made moves to get the letter first. Padma won.

"Why would the Minister want to see you?" whispered Padma, absently passing the letter off to Hermione across the table from the two of them.

Harry shrugged. "Your guess is better than mine."

"We haven't done anything illegal," Hermione stated once she had finished reading the short letter. "Goodness knows I would have noticed if we had."

"Mr. Potter," a voice, belonging to Minerva McGonagall, interrupted Harry's response. The three sixth years turned their focus to the Professor.

"Yes?"

"Professor Dumbledore wants to speak with you after breakfast."

Sighing, Harry stood up. His appetite was gone.

"Might as well get this over with," Harry informed the other two. They bid their farewells and Harry departed the Great Hall.

A few minutes later, Harry was standing before the two stone Gargoyles that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Don't suppose you could just tell him I'm here," remarked Harry to the motionless statues. "It's not like I always know the password."

Someone must've been listening for the Gargoyles parted and the doorway materialized in the wall. Unsurprised, Harry got on the stairs and ascended them to the Headmaster's office.

"Ah, Harry, take a seat," Dumbledore said warmly as he entered the room. "A lemon drop, Harry?" he offered.

"No thank you, Professor," Harry replied, taking a seat. "You called?" Dumbledore returned the offered container of lemon drops to its spot on his desk. He took one for himself and settled in to his seat, watching Harry through his half moon spectacles.

"It has come to my attention that our new Minister has requested a meeting between the two of you."

"He has," Harry replied shortly. Unless he was pre-warned by the Minister, which was a fifty-fifty chance, then his mail was presumably being scanned still. He didn't like that idea either. Harry was very fond of his privacy after his life at the Dursley's. At least he now had an alternative mode of communication with Fleur, his main correspondent outside of Hogwarts now that Sirius was gone. That is if he could think of something to say to her.

"I must ask that you err on the side of caution, Harry," Dumbledore said seriously. "Politics, in either the Magical or the Muggle world, is a complex task. I would request that I be present –" Harry was a second away from interrupting when Dumbledore held up his hand. "Please, let me finish, Harry." Harry dutifully shut his trap, for the time being at least.

"As I was saying, I would request that I be present for this meeting; however I am aware that you are capable of taking care of yourself. Given your new found… maturity and drive, I can believe with a certain level of confidence that you will not make the simple mistakes that others your age would."

Harry was surprised, in all honesty, that Dumbledore was letting him do this on his own. Last year… well, last year he would've been ignored like he had for the entire year, however the year before he would not have been allowed to do this without the Headmaster present. It conflicted with his current opinion of the man.

"Uh – yes, sir," said Harry slowly, shifting uncomfortably with the conflicting thoughts in his head.

"I seem to have confused you," Dumbledore chuckled. "Just a word of warning and then I'll let you return to your holidays, Harry. Rufus Scrimgeour wants something from you. Be careful how you respond to him. Like Cornelius did, he has the power to make life unpleasant for you."

Nodding to show he understood, Harry stood up and dismissed himself when Dumbledore returned to his work.

_This is… interesting_, Harry thought to himself.

Re-entering the Great Hall, Harry's eyes immediately searched for Hermione and Padma. On his quick examination of the room, he noticed Daphne seated slightly off to the side of other Slytherins, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Now there was an idea.

Catching her eye, he subtly shifted his eyes back towards the Entrance Hall. Daphne didn't show any reaction, not that he expected her too. Harry crossed the room and leant forward next to Padma. Hermione leant in closer to hear him.

"Dumbledore wanted to talk about Scrimgeour," Harry explained quickly, quietly. "I have an idea. I'll find you two later."

He straightened and exited the Hall.

It took several minutes, but the first students started to leave from breakfast. A few more minutes later, Daphne exited between two groups of young Hufflepuffs, who gave her a wide berth, terrified of her. The two of them quickly found a room out of the way to sit and talk.

"You called, Pot-Harry?" asked Daphne warily.

"Pleasure to see you too, Daphne," replied Harry wryly. "I got a letter from the Minister's office today." He paused.

"Your point?"

"I have a meeting with the Minster tomorrow," continued Harry brightly. "Quite an interesting event, if I do say so myself. Now, my life being what it has been, I don't have any real experience with the political gibberish most people know of. So, how would you like to tell me all about Scrimgeour and help me understand what he wants from me?"

Daphne cocked a single eyebrow and slowly closed the distance between them in the room. She started walking slow circles around him, her eyes never leaving his.

"And what makes you think I'll help you?" asked Daphne curiously. "What's in it for me?"

"The pleasure of my company?" Harry ventured somewhat weakly.

Daphne considered the proposal for a moment. "I'll help, just for the amusement this'll bring," she replied warmly. "Now, let me tell you a tale about a man with an ambition."

x-x-x-x-x-

After three hours, Daphne couldn't honestly say that Harry had the ability, personality or underhandedness required to survive the political world. He didn't have the mindset, the background or the understanding to deal with politics.

"Looks like you'll have to keep me around for awhile, Potter," remarked Daphne when they decided to break for lunch.

"Sure you aren't just looking for more reasons to stay with me?"

"In your dreams, Potter, in your dreams…"

Even so, a fair bit was accomplished. Harry was surprised at how little they fought or traded insults. The worst he received was that Harry resided in a lesser Hogwarts House. After that, and when Daphne said that Harry had little chance of surviving in a Slytherin lifestyle, he revealed a particular memory he had not shared with anyone.

To say that Daphne was surprised when Harry told her that the Sorting Hat had wanted to put him in Slytherin would be one rather large underestimation. The girl had been so surprised that she was speechless. That is _after_ she had confirmed the fact when Harry had allowed her to view the memory through Legilimency. One didn't require much skill in that Mind Art when the target was willing. It still had been an uncomfortable experience, however.

At precisely two p.m. the next day, Harry saw Rufus Scrimgeour enter the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry had spent much of the last half an hour waiting on the steps to the first floor, nervously anticipating the meeting and trying to pinpoint what the Minister wanted from him. Daphne had suggested a number of reasons; however, she had said the most likely was his assistance in keeping up the public image of the Ministry. When Harry asked how she'd figured that out, she replied simply, "I read the paper."

Scrimgeour was a tall man, with a large amount of graying hair flowing from his head, down the side of his face and ending with a reasonably sized beard. He wore wire rimmed spectacles, that gave the man a sense of wisdom and, possibly from his hardened expression as well, an air of power, of leonine. High quality robes were covered by an equally high quality, but unmarked, black cloak that was covered in snow. It was quickly removed by the man's assistant, which of course made Harry take notice of him.

Percy Weasley was unchanged from the last time Harry had seen him. He still wore the same glasses and robes that Harry had seen him wearing in Dumbledore's office mere minutes before Umbridge had taken control of Hogwarts.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, we meet at last," Scrimgeour said warmly, his voice with a distinct growl in it, further enhancing the leonine impression. He offered his hand amicably for Harry to shake.

"Minister," Harry acknowledged, shaking the man's hand. His grip was firm, strong, and powerful.

"I believe you have met my assistant, Mr. Weasley," said Scrimgeour still warmly, apparently oblivious to the bad blood between the two of them.

"We have," Harry replied curtly, giving Percy a brief, uncaring glance. Neither really had anything to say to each other. His letter to Ron last year had made things between them perfectly clear. Percy had chosen his side, and it wasn't Harry's.

"Shall we take a small walk while we talk, Mr. Potter?" offered Scrimgeour, gesturing in the direction of the stairs to the first floor, then the corridor to Dumbledore's office, and finally the stairs to the dungeons.

"Certainly," Harry replied, turning his back on Percy the moment he could. "Will this be just you and me… or is Mr. Weasley joining us?" he asked neutrally.

Something Daphne had drilled into his head was not to usurp the position of someone far more powerful than you were while showing them you weren't to be screwed with. Harry had to make sure that, while he had no political influence for quite a few years yet, he wasn't a person that would get walked all over. Yet he still was capable of asking requests, small ones, which would show he had some sort of influence in the meeting.

At least that was her explanation in _his _words.

After his past two years, Harry wasn't going to let another Minister make his life hell. This provided the right attitude, in Daphne's opinion.

Percy looked distinctly uncomfortable about this question and was about to protest when Scrimgeour raised his hand to stem any complaints.

"This will be between the two of us, Mr. Potter," Scrimgeour replied authoritatively. The warmness was still present, but now there was an underlying weightiness to his tone. Percy seemed to recognize what that meant and quieted his forming protests instantly.

Scrimgeour laid a rough, commanding hand on Harry's shoulder and directed him in the direction of Dumbledore's office. Harry had to walk a little slower than normal to compensate for the Minister's limp. He wasn't slow, merely slow_er_.

"It has been sometime since I've visited Hogwarts," Scrimgeour told him, examining the familiar corridors with surprising interest.

"There isn't much reason to return after graduating, is there, sir?" inquired Harry, slightly curious to learn more about this Minister. While it was a clean slate, per se, he was skeptical due to his distaste for Fudge. "That is unless you choose to teach here."

"No, I suppose you're right." Scrimgeour shook his head as the two rounded a corner, causing a gaggle of second years to gawk and then scatter at the appearance of two of the most famous wizards in their time.

"May I call you, Harry?"

"Yes sir."

"Excellent," Scrimgeour replied with his same warmness. "I have wanted to meet you for some time, even before Fudge had to step down from office. Were you aware of that, Harry?"

"No sir," Harry replied honestly.

"Oh yes, for quite some time," Scrimgeour went on. "Dumbledore has been protective of you, naturally, after what you've been through. Unpleasant business on the best of days, is it not?"

Harry didn't offer a response, so he continued. "Imagine my surprise when my request was not rebuffed this time. This talk has been some time coming, so let us get on with it shall we?"

_Finally…_ Harry thought. According to Daphne, small talk was designed to get him nervous and, to his everlasting dislike, anticipating the beginning of the real meeting. His interpretation of Daphne's words again.

"Rumors are an interesting concept, Harry," Scrimgeour told him. "Some are so far from the truth that they are indeed comical …" He paused, not-so-gently adding pressure to Harry's shoulder, indicating for them to stop. The two were in one of the few corridors absent of any portraits or students. It was then Harry realized why he'd been led down here. This really was between just them.

"… and some are so accurate that it is frightening," Scrimgeour finished. His hardened eyes were boring into Harry's as he said it.

"In my experience, sir," Harry replied curtly, but politely. "Rumors have been nothing but lies."

"Rita Skeeter," Scrimgeour concluded. Harry nodded. "Yes, she is a loose canon, yet she draws in readers more than any other reporter in Britain. You can not fault her on that."

Harry was severely tempted to retort when he remembered his place. He was a student; Scrimgeour was the Minister of Magic. He had to be careful here. Daphne and Dumbledore had warned him on being respectful.

"Still, rumor starts off as truth, Harry," Scrimgeour said seriously. "One only has to understand how to find the truth in a pack of lies to find the real story. All these… whispers… rumors… of your adventure in our Department of Mysteries… the Hall of Prophecies and the Death Room…"

Here it was, the real reason Scrimgeour was here. Harry could feel it in his bones. It should've been obvious, and it was, really.

"'Chosen One' and other names… I assume you and Dumbledore have discussed this?"

Harry stared back at the Minister for a moment, contemplating his response. Daphne had suggested this as one of the many possible reasons for a visit.

"We have."

"I see," Scrimgeour said quietly, nodding to himself. "And what has Dumbledore said to you, Harry?"

"Sorry, but that's between us."

"Ah yes, of course. We _are_ in a time where confidences must be kept and I will not ask you to divulge them. At any rate, would it really matter if you are the Chosen One or not?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Well, Harry, of course to _you_ it is of life and death importance," Scrimgeour said with a small laugh. Harry didn't find the moment particularly humorous.

"To the public… their perception, Harry, that is what matters, is it not?" asked Scrimgeour rhetorically. "People will believe what they wish to believe and they do wish to believe about you, their hero."

"The public deserves to know the truth, sir."

He was tempted a second time to drop all pretences and give the man a piece of his mind. Daphne's words kept him in check, albeit barely. This _really_ wasn't his forte – being calm, hiding behind layers of nice sounding words with not-so-nice meanings. No matter how he'd changed, he still was impatient to those who hid behind multi-layered words.

"That is neither here nor there, Harry," Scrimgeour replied with a small edge to his voice. "Like I said," he continued, the edge gone as quick as it appeared. "The public wants to believe you are the Chosen One. Morale is important in a war, Harry. You may or may not be, after your experiences, too young to understand how a war really works. Morale is crucial to a victory. A depressed fighter will not be as effective as a confident fighter."

"To keep that morale up…" Scrimgeour trailed off, still maintaining his and Harry's visual connection. He thought through his words carefully before speaking again. "If you were seen in the Ministry, the belief that you are able, no, _destined_ even, to defeat He Who Must Not Be Named… well, that will be, naturally, a mood lifter. If you were to stand alongside the Ministry… that act alone will… well, it would help everyone."

The real reason for the visit had hit him as soon as the Minister had mentioned him at the Ministry. Daphne's explanations had been somewhat useful after all.

"You want me to visit the Ministry and, while proclaiming me the Chosen One, take a more active role in public life outside of Hogwarts," Harry figured, examining the man for a reaction. Years of life as an Auror trained him not to give one away, though.

"In a way, yes…" Scrimgeour answered hesitantly.

"Just say what you want of me, Minister," Harry sighed, discarding all the niceties and so called glorified words in favor of getting to point. He had new patience, but this was a bit extreme.

"Given the current situation –" he began.

"– The breakout of all captured Death Eaters?" Harry interrupted, clarifying the _small_ detail.

"Yes," Scrimgeour replied briskly. "Given our current situation, morale is decreasing. The knowledge that the boy destined to defeat You-Know-Who was taking a more active role, even only as appearances went, would increase that morale."

"If you were to appear, you would be given the opportunity to speak to Gawain Robards, my successor as Head of the Auror Office. I've been told you cherish the ambition to become an Auror, Harry."

"Who told you that?" asked Harry, thinking of any Ministry employees who knew that. The list wasn't promising.

"Dolores Umbridge."

"She still works there?" asked Harry with barely concealed contempt.

"Of course," replied Scrimgeour. His aged face became curious. "What has happened to create such a reaction to her?"

"Do you know what that woman did to students while she was here at Hogwarts? Do you know what she did in her attempts to take control of this school and ruin the future of an entire generation? I assume you don't, or if you do, you are burying it and lying to me. I would hardly be surprised if you were."

Scrimgeour remained silent; an eyebrow raised at Harry's less than calm diatribe, and contemplated his next choice of words.

Harry, meanwhile, closed his eyes and sighed, trying to return to being calm and respectful again. He opened them when the Minister spoke next.

"I assure you, Harry, I have not been informed of what you are referring to."

Harry didn't reply.

"I see we are to disagree on several counts."

"It seems so." Harry scowled at the thought of Umbridge. "At any rate, my continued poor experiences with the British Ministry impede my desire to become an Auror. I'm afraid that it isn't an allure to me anymore."

"That is a shame."

Harry shrugged. "I can live with it. Showing up at the Ministry would give one the impression I agree with what you are doing, right?"

"Yes, that is what partly why'd we like you to appear at the Ministry," Scrimgeour said, seeing no simple alternative except to speak the truth at this point. "You have been through a lot, Harry; however you don't understand how the world works," he tried to explain several moments later.

"No, I think I understand perfectly how this works. If the truth causes too many problems, then lie. If whatever trouble appears is too much, lie to the public until they believe the threat is non-existent. Isn't that what you're doing by arresting innocents?"

"We had legitimate reasons for arresting every last potential Death Eater since I came into office," Scrimgeour said defensively. While he was immensely more adept than Harry at politics, Harry had a major in argumentative, emotional debates. This was something hanging around Ron and Hermione for so long had blessed him with. He, unlike Ron, however, was more in control of what he was saying.

"Then why haven't they been released?" Harry asked. "Isn't it because you'd lose morale if the Ministry was seen releasing their so called captured Death Eaters? And what about the Death Eaters my friends and I caught? They escaped, undoing everything we did, undoing what people have _died_ for."

"Azkaban was a mistake on our part," Scrimgeour conceded.

"The first thing you should have done when you took office was to remove the Dementors from Azkaban. You can not look me in the eye and tell me you thought they'd stand by you and the Ministry over Voldemort."

Scrimgeour was impassive.

"You're even afraid to hear his name," Harry groaned. "You're the Minister of Magic, for God's sake, and you're afraid of a name."

"You do not understand how the Ministry works, Harry Potter," Scrimgeour replied, and his tone betrayed how irritated he was becoming. "I can sympathize with your frustrations but change is not as simple as you believe it."

"So, what, don't try? You're the Minister of Magic. You're supposed to change the country for the better. There is so much you could be doing and yet you're here trying to get me to help you."

Scrimgeour scowled deeply. "You are treading dangerous ground, Harry. Had I not patience, you would be arrested."

"Arrest the Boy-Who-Lived? Arrest the supposed 'Chosen-One'? Your precious morale would be non-existent if you did, and you might as well hand me over to Voldemort and have me killed for all the good that'd do."

Scrimgeour was silent for a long moment, giving Harry a cold, calculating examination. Harry stared back strongly, defiantly, his temper having resurfaced for the first time in a long time. All the things Daphne had told him were out the window.

"What about your sense of duty?" he ventured. "Do you want the war to be lost because of a misunderstanding?"

"I am not here to be used like a weapon, Minister. What about your own sense of duty?" Harry asked airily. He let out a small, bitter laugh. "I hear that you have been trying to weed out Death Eaters in your administration. Have you used Veritaserum on everyone yet? Are some people using their positions to skip their turn? I'd be suspicious of anyone who declines, no matter what you think of them. I assume there haven't been any successes since there is nothing in the news. If you had found someone, it would be _Daily Prophet_ worthy."

"What about what Minister Fudge was told after the Tournament?" he continued. "Have you searched for and arrested all those that I named? I told the truth when this all started and was ignored."

"It is complicated, Harry," Scrimgeour replied. "They are hidden well and can't be found easily."

"Then go through whoever is likely to know," Harry said angrily. "When Lucius Malfoy walked through the Ministry like he owned the place he had friends everywhere. You can't tell me that they have all up and gone into hiding or that you have nowhere idea where they went or ways of communicating. I know I don't understand how politics works, but I know that you aren't getting your hands dirty here. I know I don't understand all the intricacies of the Ministry, I don't ever expect to. What I do know is that you are going to have to suffer poor public opinion if you want to succeed in this war. This is simple, Minister. You want the public to like you, then earn their trust, work for it, capture Death Eaters, stop attacks, and don't try and deceive them with the impression that the Chosen One is working for you."

"So you are the Chosen One?" Scrimgeour asked with poorly concealed excitement. Harry inwardly winced at the slip; he could hear Daphne berating him for it in his mind.

"I thought you said it didn't matter if I was or not?"

"That was tactless," Scrimgeour admitted quickly. "It shouldn't have been said."

Harry shook his head. "As long as you are in the public's favor, you don't care what happens to me. There's no point in lying. You expect me to help, to run to your defense after what you and your people have done to me," he said harshly. "I can hardly believe you have the audacity to ask me when you are barely better than Fudge. But the sad thing is that I _can_ believe it. It is no wonder Voldemort has had such easy successes."

"What does Dumbledore do when he leaves Hogwarts?" Scrimgeour asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," Harry replied honestly.

"And you wouldn't tell me if you knew, would you?"

"What would you do if I did tell you?" asked Harry rhetorically. "Tail him and interfere so you can claim whatever Dumbledore manages to achieve for yourself? Sorry, but no way. I may not agree with him always but he is working to defeat Voldemort, like you should be." 

"I'll find out one way or another, Harry," Scrimgeour said threateningly.

"You seem more intelligent than Fudge, sir. I would assume you knew that interfering with Hogwarts only results in failure. Let us be. You have your own way of fighting the war, sir, and Dumbledore has his."

"And on which side do you lay?"

"Neither."

There was a pregnant pause, broken only by the short appearance and disappearance of the Fat Friar through the walls in the corridor as short distance from the pair.

"Understand this, Minister," Harry said with an air of finality. "If you want my help, you need to release those who are innocent, get rid of the spies in your government, including people like Umbridge, and start making a serious difference in the war. Public image isn't everything."

With that, Harry turned and walked off, leaving the Minister of Magic with a lot to consider.

x-x-x-x-x-

"So how'd it go, Harry?" asked Daphne, examining her nails in a disinterested manner.

"I wouldn't expect you'd give me any praise for my performance," Harry grimaced.

The two of them were back in the same room as before, exactly as they had agreed once Harry was done with Scrimgeour. Daphne was leaning against the wall beside the door and Harry was on the opposite side of the room, staring out the window.

After prodding further, Daphne was treated to the entire story.

"Have you not heard the concept of subtlety before?" asked an exasperated Daphne. "Is it really that complex _not_ to blurt out whatever comes to mind?"

"Apparently so," replied Harry. Daphne let out a tremulous sigh.

"I suppose you got your point across and that's what matters. I can't say I expected much from a Gryffindor, even one who could have been in Slytherin."

In a strange way, Harry knew that was as close to praise he would get for some time from her. He was beginning to understand how she ticked, even if just a little.

"Will he change?" asked Harry soberly. "Will anything I said have any affect?"

"I'll level with you, Potter," Daphne said seriously, pushing herself off the wall and walking towards Harry. "The Ministry won't change overnight. It often takes years upon years for new policies to be accepted. What you said may have an effect upon Scrimgeour himself, but you more than likely won't see any real changes in the near future."

As she finished, she about-faced and leant into the wall next to Harry, who still was staring out into the snow covered grounds.

"I didn't even get around to Malfoy and getting the Aurors to check him out for the Dark Mark."

"Scrimgeour wouldn't have complied unless you did with his demands," Daphne told him honestly. Harry deliberated over it and decided she was probably correct.

"Thanks for the help anyway," sighed Harry, closing his eyes and leaning against the window.

"Don't trouble yourself over it, Harry," Daphne replied, facing him side-on. "If it was that easy to create change, we'd live a very disturbing world."

"Why bother trying to change the world it if takes so bloody long?"

"Look, Harry, I'm probably the worst person in the world to answer that question," said Daphne, crossing her arms against her chest. "The world _is_ harsh, the world _is_ unpleasant and the world _is_ rarely fair. Face facts, Harry. People try to change the world so that those they care about, not to mention themselves, can live in a world easier, even if just a little bit, than their own."

She was right, of course. The world was indeed harsh, unpleasant and unfair more often than not in his experience. There were those, like the Goblins, that believed he could change the world, or at least Britain. At the time he had been told this he was so swept up in the whole suddenly being wealthy business to really think through what Ragnok had said.

He had the power to change the world because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. His choices were to use his influence to help evolve the British society or to ignore it and let the wizarding world run itself into the ground before finally learning their lesson.

There were people he cared about, people he wished had no part in the danger he always brought them, no matter how much they said they didn't care. They were the people he wanted to change the world for, to stop Voldemort for.

"We fight for ourselves and those we care about," Harry whispered, more to himself than to Daphne, who heard it anyway.

"That's the sappiest way of putting it, yes," Daphne replied briskly, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading.

"Don't worry; I'm done with that line of thinking."

"Thank Merlin."

Harry smiled at the audible relief in her tone. He could tell she was humoring him, though.

"You really are quite good looking, you know," Harry said, smiling to himself, still leaning against the window glass, eyes closed.

"I know," Daphne replied, giving Harry a small slap to the forehead. "Try to stay on topic, you flirt you."

Harry snorted, stood up and straight and faced her. Daphne was smiling. His moods were so easily to manipulate sometimes. Knowing how to push his buttons would only help her in the future.

Ambition. Her ambition. Scrimgeour's ambition. It was all about the ambition.

And she would achieve hers.

It was simply good luck that Harry provided the quickest and easiest means. And be integrated into it, too.

"Come on then," said Harry. "We've got a bit more holidays to enjoy so let's enjoy it before we start all over again."

Daphne shook her head, both in wonder at his change in attitude and to clear her mind of her thoughts. "Onwards," she muttered sarcastically, following the Gryffindor out the door.

x-x-x-x-x-

The rest of the holidays passed uneventfully. New Year's Eve was a nice night for the four DA members still at Hogwarts. They met in the Room of Requirement and stayed up till after midnight, drinking Butterbeer that Harry had acquired with the aid of his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map. Daphne berated him, saying that he could've gotten Firewhiskey, but that was meant to be a banned substance in the castle and he suspected she would drink more than was wise.

Two days before term started again, the train returned with the rest of the Hogwarts students, the ones who had left for the holidays. Harry had a warm greeting with each of them. Susan and Hannah chose to further embarrass him and asked if he would like the second half of his gift. He managed to get a response out and the two Hufflepuffs promised they would adhere to the rain check.

It didn't take long before everyone was up to date on what had happened while they were away.

It was on the night before classes would resume that Harry found himself staring out the window in his dorm, between Ron's and his beds.

It was a new year, a new set of trials and adventures awaiting him. There would be tough times ahead; nobody could deny that, however, with everyone by his side, there was hope.

Hope that he would still be alive at year's end.


	17. Drawn From Memory

A/N: Song title comes from the UK band 'Embrace'. I haven't actually heard this song, but I like their albums "Good Will Out", "This New Day" and "Out of Nothing".

_**Chapter 17**__**: Drawn From Memory**_

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes. For a few moments he could see nothing. Then his vision returned, blurred.

"Here, Harry," a familiar voice appeared from beside him. "I believe these will help."

Raising his hand in the direction of the voice, Harry felt his glasses being pressed into it. It took him half a minute of fumbling, but he managed to place the glasses on his head correctly.

Immediately his vision cleared. To his dismay, Harry found himself staring at the ceiling for the seventieth time today, sixteenth in the past two hours.

"Didn't work again?" asked Harry, already aware of the answer. His presence on the ground was the most obvious indication. He sat up groggily, grasping his head as it spun. Constantly being stunned and then awoken probably did not have positive effects on one's body.

"I'm afraid not," Professor Flitwick, who was standing to his left, replied cheerfully. His attitude was usually contagious and Harry found himself more often than not enjoying his training sessions with the undersized man. This time, however, was different. His inability to accomplish the current task was bothering him more than he'd like to admit. It made his previous difficulty with the Summoning Charm feel like a picnic. His Occlumency lessons were another matter, however.

"What am I doing wrong, sir?" questioned Harry tiredly. After an entire term of understanding and catching onto everything he was taught, old and new, quickly, it was frustrating that he couldn't get this at all after roughly thirty attempts.

"You understand what needs to be done but your precision needs work." Flitwick explained.

Harry sighed inwardly. "Can you explain it from the start?"

Flitwick agreed.

The diminutive Charms professor, who, while standing and Harry sitting, only managed to be slightly taller, walked, or waddled, his way to the front of the empty classroom that had been their training spot for months. There was no need to mimic the outside this time so the room was bare.

"Wizards tend to become complacent due to the simplicity of almost all tasks thanks to magic," Flitwick explained patiently. "That complacency is obvious in how one avoids, or doesn't, an incoming spell. Most wizards will shield rather than attempt a dodge."

It was true. It had taken Harry thirty full minutes to explain this to the DA, minus Hermione. Some, like Padma and Daphne, understood the advantages of moving rather than shielding, but others took a fair bit more convincing.

"When a wizard is in close range, dodging is not always an option. That said, it isn't always possible from a distance either. Spells have variable speeds and thus some spells aren't possible to dodge," Flitwick continued. Harry snapped back to attention. He didn't want to show any disrespect to the Professor by not giving him his full attention.

"Shielding is then normally considered the only option. However, it is _not_ the only one." Flitwick went on cheerfully.

"Parrying," Harry added from his spot on the floor. His dizziness had now passed. He made moves to stand while Flitwick continued his lecture.

"Correct, Harry," Flitwick replied excitedly. "Parrying is more difficult than shielding is, but once learnt correctly, is more effective in most situations. Few wizards bother to learn this ability, believing that simple shielding is more than adequate. For most of us, that is the case. And it works just fine for them, too. However, in your case, the need to parry is more… prominent. There are, of course, spells that cannot be parried, just like there are spells that cannot be shielded."

"The best comparison I can offer is the Banishment Charm," Flitwick said thoughtfully. "A minor pulse of magic can, well, banish a spell slightly."

"What about sending a spell back at the caster?" asked Harry, walking a few steps and picking up his fallen wand for the sixteenth time this afternoon.

Flitwick shook his head. "While possible, it requires far too much pure magical force aimed directly into the spell to push it away for it to be of any real use. You are better off shielding or dodging and casting your own retaliatory spell."

"Is it documented at all?" asked Harry, rising with wand in hand and taking a spot in the middle of the room to listen to the rest of the lecture.

"It is not, I'm afraid," Flitwick replied dejectedly. "It is a most truly interesting concept; however it has been discovered to be far too costly on our magic to be of any use."

It made sense to Harry and he pushed the thoughts away. How wonderful it would be to merely force spells to rebound off him. But by the sounds of it, it wouldn't be advisable to do it more than, say, once.

"As I was saying, a minor pulse of magic can direct the spell out of our way without wasting energy on shields or dodging."

Harry nodded his understanding. He understood everything that had been explained so far. It wasn't difficult material to grasp; he simply couldn't get the right amount of magic to parry properly.

On the first attempt, Harry had used too much magical power and sent the spell flailing wildly off in the direction of a wall. Cringing at the display, Harry had glanced back to Flitwick and raised an eyebrow. The Professor had rather quickly explained that too much power, like he had used then, caused the spell to become unstable and uncontrollable.

Having the spell uncontrollable did not achieve the purpose of parrying. Considering the added unpredictability of being pushed off course, it was far safer to learn to parry exactly as it was meant to be.

Harry was still determined to learn to parry before the week was out. If he couldn't parry a simple Stunner, one of the most basic spells used in a duel, how could he hope to defeat one of, if not the, most powerful wizards of the twentieth century?

His second attempt had been a polar opposite of his first. Harry had overpowered the attempt the first time. This time he underpowered the attempt at parrying.

The Stunning Spell was what Flitwick was using for Harry to learn to parry. His underpowered attempt at parrying had resulted in him waking up to stare at the ceiling. This had now occurred sixteen times.

His underpowered attempt had only slowed the progress of the spell and, to a minor extent, altered the trajectory, nothing more and nothing less. It still hit him. He would be dead in a real duel.

What followed was a painful experience of either doing too much or too little. Of around thirty attempts, sixteen had resulted with him unconscious until Professor Flitwick could revive him. The rest had resulted with a wide variety of odd and, frankly, dangerous flying spells.

He couldn't get the power level right.

It was frustrating not to grasp this concept after finally getting the hang of silent spell casting.

To top it off, his mind was not always completely focused on the task at hand either. It wandered.

The past three weeks had been rife with activity within and outside the walls of Hogwarts. Another three attacks on the residences of wizards had been mentioned in the _Daily Prophet_. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Terry Boot were shepherded out of the Great Hall mere minutes before a plethora of owls entered, revealing successful attacks on their homes and reporting the death of their families.

Hannah, in a brief exchange of words later in the day, told Harry that the two of them were withdrawing from Hogwarts and moving out of the country with their remaining relatives. It was a wise move. They weren't involved in the war at all. They had no reason to stay. Safety lay abroad, for the time being at least.

The attacks seemed to generate fear amongst the majority of the school population. While Justin Finch-Fletchley and Terry Boot were nothing special, it made the fact that everyone was a possible target hit far closer to home than ever before.

In their own way, various students tried desperately to cope with the rising panic. Eight times on a single patrol three days after Justin and Terry left Hogwarts, Harry discovered pairs of students locked in rather passionate activities in broom cupboards and unused classrooms. Each had progressed further and further, the seventh even having bits and pieces hanging out.

The eighth time he crossed paths with a couple getting intimate, there were three girls in a single, small broom cupboard.

That had thrown Harry off balance. He barely even registered the fact that Hermione was with him for the rest of the night due to the surprise and shock.

After the second patrol of such circumstances, Harry found himself glad he didn't have to catch any of his close friends or roommates in such compromising situations. Most of the caught students he'd never even talked to.

Though some had chosen to… explore with the opposite gender to avoid facing reality, others, like he had been warned by his fellow Gryffindor year mates, chose to draw lines in the dirt and pick fights with the enemies on the other side.

A small series of quiet, but noticeable, skirmishes erupted in the following week. Harry, Hermione, Padma, Ernie and Hannah had to break up fights, both magical and muggle style, in the halls both on and off patrols. More often than not a Slytherin was involved, with a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff – or even on two occasions a Ravenclaw – on the opposite end.

While Harry had no love for Slytherins, he was disgusted to discover a seventh year Gryffindor picking on a second year Slytherin. He was ashamed to live in the same tower as the guy. There were lines people did not cross, no matter how fearful you are, and a seventeen year old attacking a twelve year old, one that barely knew any magic to defend himself against attackers, was one of those lines.

When Harry tried to help the second year to his feet after giving the Gryffindor a week's detention, the twelve year old had stared at him with wide-eyes and backed away hurriedly. Bouncing into the wall several times, the kid continued a hasty retreat and Harry never heard from him again.

It looked as if the next generation of Gryffindors and Slytherins would continue to detest each other as well. The interference and stern warnings and detentions served to do naught more than draw more attention to the fights.

Almost without conscious thought, the entire DA began to work harder than ever before. It wasn't panic like it had been the first time, not at all. This time it was plain desire; the desire to stop Voldemort.

One advantage of knowing the prophecy was the knowledge that Harry had a chance to win. Sticking by him would also give them the best chance at helping end everything as soon as possible.

But sticking with Harry was also dangerous. Unless they were able to adequately defend themselves, it was a very unwise decision to stand by his side as he would, undoubtedly, walk into danger again and again.

The problem was that not everyone was up to task.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Keep moving, Katie!" hollered Harry from the sidelines. He was pacing up and down, keeping with the two duellists safely on the other side of the barrier that was provided by the Room upon request. The rest of the DA, besides the two duellists and Harry, were watching, whispering to each other on a variety of matters.

Spells of many and varied type flew through the room, crashing into opposite walls or shields erected by the frenzied duellists.

The strangest aspect of the duel to outsiders would be that the entire battle was done without the single utterance of a spell. Both Katie and her opponent, Susan, had learnt to cast silently with enough spells to put up a decent bout against each other. It had taken hard work and a lot of patience – two things true Hufflepuffs like Susan were known for – to get this far. In the end, it was worth the effort. They were far more capable of defending themselves than ever before.

Yet…

Katie, still on her feet, sent a barrage of hexes and curses, followed by a hastily, and of poor quality, conjured weighted ball. Susan, on the move, managed to keep ahead of the barrage of spells, shielding the several that she could not dodge. A simple Banishment Charm neutralized the threat of the ball. A second shield and her nimble feet rendered the next onslaught as fruitless as the one before it.

In a brief moment where Katie took a much needed breather – multiple silent spells so close together still took a lot out of each and every DA member due to the level of concentration and ordinary physical endurance required to keep moving at full pace – Susan began her counterattack.

The 'Puff had no real specialty, managing to be adequate at the main branches of magic – they being Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts – and because of that she had begun developing her own combinations of each magic's. Harry had mentioned it months ago, that everyone created their own style suited to their strengths and weaknesses, and Susan had neither no real strengths nor weaknesses in her magic, being decent in each.

Conjuration magic, recently begun by the sixth year students, had become a popular style of Transfiguration very quickly due to the broad possibilities it brought. While food and drink were not possible, an interesting array of offensive and defensive objects could be conjured. Except for Harry, who had begun learning it with McGonagall in his extra classes near the end of the previous term, the group was still in the learning stages.

Several blunted projectiles appeared from thin air before Susan, only to find themselves Banished milliseconds later. As it was the first style of 'outside-the-box' dueling Harry had shown, all were very quick off the mark in any attack based off that well practiced system.

Katie stepped and ducked down to her left, out of the way of the threat of multiple bruises, only to find herself creating a shield just in time to avoid unconsciousness. Another assault of magic rained down upon her. Her shield began to waver and Katie halted, removing her concentration from around her to keeping her shield up.

Susan noticed her opponent's mistake and kept the pressure on while moving in closer cautiously. Her face was scrunched together in fierce concentration. Harry could see she had something in mind; her spells were becoming more simplistic and less dangerous without letting up in intensity.

Then the spells stopped. Katie hesitated, unsure of why they let up, and because of that, she wasn't prepared for the rapidly approaching object from her side. By the time she saw the streak, it was too late to attempt to dodge or redirect her shield. With an audible thump, she was struck on the side of the head. Katie crumpled to the floor, her wand clattering to the ground.

"Bloody minger," muttered a frustrated Katie under her breath from her position on the floor. Her head had already begun pounding, a headache on the way. It hadn't hurt as much as a Bludger did, but it still wasn't a pleasant experience.

Katie made moves to get to her feet, only to find Susan's wand pointed at her.

"Susan, winner," said Harry unenthusiastically. With the barest thought the wall protecting the spectators dropped and Harry walked towards the motionless duelists. The rest of the group followed suit, their footsteps echoing, relating different speeds for different pairs of feet

"That was uncalled for, Katie," said Hannah disdainfully before Harry could say anything more. Her curse hadn't gone unheard.

Katie didn't respond vocally, however her face was reddening with a combination of embarrassment and displeasure at losing, and in the fashion she had. A flying object was something she dealt with often; losing to one was effectively a sore spot.

"Thank you, Hannah," said Harry dismissively. The 'Puff sent him a half-hearted apologetic look, but couldn't bring herself to be that honest in it, not that Harry would've expected her to.

Susan's wand was still raised, primed to strike at her opponent, when Harry gently laid his hand on hers and lowered it. The strawberry blonde didn't resist, admittedly enjoying the contact, to her silent embarrassment.

"Three things, Katie," began Harry, maintaining his contact on Susan's hand. "Firstly, you let yourself get taken off guard."

This was not the first time either. Katie had been beaten more often than she had won, and it was usually due to an average mistake. One who didn't know Katie might say she simply wasn't magically talented, but that would be wrong. She was excellent at Charms, yet she appeared unable to transfer her classroom brilliance into a duel.

"Yeah, I know," Katie replied tiredly. She clutched her head and closed her eyes, willing the pounding to dissipate.

Harry was sure she did.

"Second. You stopped moving and focused on your shield when it started to fail. Elsewhere I'd say use some sort of cover, but here, you could've ducked or dived out of the way and retaliated, putting Susan on the back foot."

"I know, I know," Katie sighed.

Harry frowned. This was a different reaction than normal. She usually tried to explain away her errors, not resignedly accept her loss.

"I'm just not as …" she paused, struggling to find an adequate adjective. "… proficient at this as you lot are."

A soft snort erupted from someone behind Harry. All turned to face Daphne, who was staring at Katie disdainfully.

"Not everyone is cut out for fighting," Daphne deadpanned. "She may be intelligent in the classroom, and that's just fine. But someone who can't apply her abilities to save her life –"

"- Thanks for that, Daphne," Harry interrupted in the same dismissive tone as he had used with Hannah, turning back to Katie. The Slytherin maintained her examination of Katie for a moment longer, before turning away in disgust, giving Harry's back a glare for good measure.

Their dynamics remained the same in presence of other people. However, on the sole occasion they had shared a conversation since the holidays, Daphne had been more receptive towards him than she used to.

"You sure you want to be a part of this? I've done all I can to show you what it'll be like…"

"I'm fine, Harry," Katie implored. "I just need more practice to get used to it."

She gave Harry a smile, but he wasn't fooled.

"Oh, and thirdly, try not to insult your friends."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Despite her reassurances, Katie worried him. It had been weeks since the group had started to duel each other and she was no closer to improving. The only person who she was able to defeat was Ernie, and only because he was in a similar boat to her. When he wasn't feeling arrogant like he had last semester, he was fairly intelligent. But he was failing in practice too.

Days passed from then, and more and more the residents of the castle seemed to change attitude. The _Daily Prophet_ continued to display the odd death here and there. With no real large scale attack since Christmas Eve, Hermione speculated it was only a matter of time before another influx of bad news would reach their hearts and minds. With the castle the way it was now – students fighting in the halls or, alternatively, seeking out physical comfort with someone – how the populace would fair against more death would be anyone's guess.

His fellow year mates were amongst those that were nervously anticipating the next set of bad news.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was seated in the Gryffindor common room beside Hermione reading the second half of his Defense Against the Dark Arts book for the year, having finally caught up in his readings and learnt the useful spells from them, while Hermione was working on a Potions Essay about the intricacies of brewing Blood-Replenishing Potions so that they worked for every blood type. For once it was something that, unfortunately, probably would come in useful in the future.

The pair shared the occasional idle chatter when Harry found or thought of something worth mentioning to his ever studious friend. It was one of those down moments where nothing was happening except for the now mundane work required by Hogwarts.

Leaning backwards slightly on the comfy wooden chair, one that was magically guarded against unceremonious falls from leaning too far backwards, Harry sighed and turned the page.

Cutting through his focus on Hermione's scratching quill on parchment and his own concentration on his Defence book were three pairs of footsteps that paused in front of him. Harry looked up to discover the figures of Lavender, Dean and Seamus before him, gazes held on him hopefully.

"Lavender, Dean, Seamus," Harry said their names, giving them a nod respectively. "What's up?" Hermione's scratching stopped.

"Can we talk for a second, Harry?" asked Lavender, her tone not encouraging Harry for his easy night plans. To emphasize, he sighed and sat up in his chair, returning all four chair feet to the floor, and placed his now closed textbook on the table beside him, away from Hermione's work.

The aforementioned girl began her scratching on parchment again.

"Go ahead," Harry said, gesturing for them to draw up chairs from the table beside Hermione. Sparing the working girl a quick glance each, they complied and drew up chairs. Lavender sat down with all the grace her practice during her years at Hogwarts had given her, while Dean and Seamus slumped down, quite used to the Cushioning Charms that were ever present on wizarding furniture.

The three Gryffindors shared a couple of odd looks. Lavender eventually sighed and faced Harry again. Seemed she would be the talker of the three. Harry looked at her expectedly.

"Well, Harry, you see …" she began nervously, to Harry's mild amusement.

Lavender was popular with the guys. One could not deny the impressive bust the girl held, even though the robes did little to extenuate such features. The fact that one could tell through the robes that there was anything there at all was a testament to said feature. Only Susan and a Ravenclaw that Harry had never conversed with offered any semblance of challenge in that area. It was with little surprise that this had made her popular, for mostly the wrong reasons.

Still, Lavender was not a shy person. Often, in fact, she was a little too outgoing, too forceful in nature, as she had been when interrogating him after his return from France. Seeing her nervous was therefore amusing, in a minor manner.

"Yes?" prodded Harry, awaiting the reason for being interrupted.

"I – that is to say we – were wondering if you would… startuptheDAagain," Lavender said hurriedly. She squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable at making the request.

The scratching stopped again. A page turned and it began again.

"Start up the DA again?" repeated Harry blankly. Whatever he had expected, it wasn't this.

"Yeah, mate," spoke up Dean, crossing arms and giving Harry an unusually serious visual examination.

"We can tell you are up to something," Seamus added knowingly. "No homework? It didn't take long for everyone to know that, Harry, mate."

Harry sighed inwardly. "Suppose that wasn't an easily kept secret when nobody ever sees me working on anything."

He received three nods for his troubles.

"Your point is?" he asked the three of them.

"You're looking very nice lately, as well," Lavender said mischievously, her eyes running up and down his, thankfully, robe covered body. He got the distinct impression he was being undressed by her eyes and shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, not sure if he liked that imagery at all.

Hermione's quill paused again, and Harry could've sworn she was laughing silently. And the laughter was at him, rather than with him. Oh, that was unfair.

"Again, your point?" asked Harry, praying his question would be answered this time.

"You get into more scrapes than anyone else, yeah?" said Seamus. "You gotta be learning new magic or something to protect yourself, right?"

"It suits you," Lavender said matter-of-factly, embarrassing Harry further.

"Thank you," Harry replied dryly. He turned to Hermione for help, only to find her resuming her homework. Curse her multi-tasking abilities! She could listen in to a conversation, laugh and still write an O level essay without missing a beat. That was definitely unfair.

"Look, mate, you know we know that the war is getting worse," Dean said, his arms tightening closer to his chest and sitting up straight. "Last year was great. We wouldn't have passed our OWLs without you. This, though, is more important than learning behind Umbridge's back."

"Have you talked to anyone else about this?"

"A few lads and lasses in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and with some of the younger years here as well," answered Seamus slowly, thinking of whom he conversed with.

_Terrific_, Harry thought to himself. _They're probably expecting me to agree._

For a second time, Harry looked to Hermione for help. She continued to write, only stopping to check something in her book. There was, however, a small smile on her face, and Harry couldn't help but believe it was because of Lavender's rather obvious compliments.

"I'll give it some thought, alright?"

The three of them exchanged some slightly disappointed looks and made to leave. Dean and Seamus started their own harried conversation the instant they were out of earshot. Lavender, on the other hand, hung back, fidgeting nervously.

"Harry?" said Lavender tentatively.

"What's wrong Lavender?"

She gave him a quick smile, more reminiscent of the happy-go-lucky Lavender Brown he knew and… well, not loved, but knew.

"Can I talk to you privately for a minute?" she asked quietly.

Unused to this subdued version of his year mate, Harry, concerned, agreed immediately. Sparing the still working Hermione a quick glance, he extricated himself from the corner of the common room he was in and, led by Lavender, found an unused classroom near the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"It's about Parvati," Lavender said bluntly the second Harry had closed the door behind them.

The buxom blonde was uncharacteristically serious, more so than she had been in the previous conversation. This was more personal, more pertinent to her than the future prospects of a DA revival.

Harry sighed. Admittedly he had not given Lavender that much thought. He had been too busy worrying about Padma and the myriad of other matters in his life to pay the girl her due. As Parvati was the girl's best friend, she would have suffered the consequences of the Gryffindor twin's actions as well.

But he couldn't do everything and, thankfully, allowed himself not to feel too poorly over it.

"Ask away," he replied, resigned to an interrogation. She did deserve answers, however, and for once he was willing to part with them.

That is as long as she refrained from undressing him with her eyes. That scared him a little.

"What's happened with her and Padma?"

Straight to the deep questions, it seemed.

"What do you know of their relationship?" asked Harry, crossing his arms and leaning backwards into the wall. Lavender was standing in the middle of the room, watching him closely, her hands by her sides, long blonde hair free down her shoulders and back.

"Parvati told me that she and Padma started to grow apart after Padma took interest in her books," Lavender explained, bringing a finger to her lips and directing her eyes upwards as she recalled. "After… after their mother died, it only got worse."

Harry nodded his confirmation. "That's what Padma told me too. Living in different dorms hasn't helped either."

Lavender agreed non-verbally with a nod of her head. Her hands resumed their spots by her side and she resumed her watch of Harry.

"And?" she pushed a little impatiently.

"Back in the holidays, Parvati and Padma had a confrontation," Harry continued unperturbed.

"I gathered that from when I was asked to leave with Hermione," Lavender responded, more resigned than irritated at Harry though. "Parvati was in a horrible mood afterwards. The last time I had seen her so messed up was –"

"- After the Yule Ball," Harry finished for her. "Yeah, that's partly what it was about," he added bitterly.

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, let me explain from the start," Harry said.

He uncrossed his arms, withdrew his wand and attempted to conjure some seating. What was supposed to turn out as a comfy lounge turned out to be nothing more than the skeletal frame with a minor bit of padding over the top. He winced at the poor result and Vanished it a second later. He needed more practice with conjuring on non-dueling related uses. What could he say? They weren't a high priority in his life.

A second, different, less complex attempt brought a pair of big cushions into existence. Tentatively testing them out, Harry sat down on one and, to his surprise, found them fairly comfortable. Lavender took the offered second cushion, her eyes widening slightly at the impressive display of Conjuring magic. In regular classes, this style of magic had only commenced at the start of term, not even a couple weeks ago and they certainly hadn't covered such large objects yet.

"Sometime in the summer before our fifth year, Ginny –" began Harry, before Lavender interrupted, incensed.

"What does _she_ have to do with anything?"

Harry sent her an irritated look. Lavender opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it and shut her mouth quickly.

"As I was saying, Ginny, before our fifth year, was told of a spell that is difficult to notice when cast upon someone. It was compulsion magic. Her target was me."

"Oh! Are you still under it?" asked Lavender worriedly, leaning forward and giving him a once over with her eyes. For a brief moment he thought that she had deliberately acted dumb to give him another once over, but discarded that at the sincere worry in her eyes. Sweet it was, in an odd way, yet he wouldn't have known about it had it still been on him, so he couldn't help feel it was a silly question.

"No," Harry replied. He didn't reciprocate his thoughts in his words, for if he had, he would have probably had a sore cheek for it. That wasn't a good way to end this conversation, or any, for that matter.

Harry continued his explanation until he'd reached the re-emergence of that horrible ball.

"Has Parvati ever talked about me after the Yule Ball?" asked Harry.

"Yeah … a little, not as much as before though," Lavender said, contemplating it.

"Well, according to Padma and Parvati herself, she had… has a grudge against me for… um, ruining her night," Harry said sheepishly. Hopefully this would be the last time that night would bother him. It was something so irrelevant, so minor in comparison to his usual troubles, yet it was causing him more grief than it should.

Lavender shuffled forward on her cushion to the edge and crossed her legs, not close enough to invade Harry's personal space, but getting there. He briefly wondered if she was doing this intentionally, for if she wasn't, it was no wonder she was viewed in the way she was, as her natural movements were suggestive in themselves.

"She was very disappointed after that night," Lavender agreed. "Her hopes were very high." She then paused, and her eyes widened. "Oh …"

"You thought she helped Ginny. And you and Padma confronted her over it," Lavender said, smacking her hand into her forehead. "Stupid," she muttered to herself several times, emphasizing it with several more slaps.

Harry reached forward and grabbed her hand to prevent her for slapping herself again. Lavender looked at him and he saw the despondent look her eyes. She finally was grasping what was wrong with her best friend and it was eating at her that she didn't understand and help earlier.

After a moment her shoulders slumped, returning to a calmer, though no less depressed, state of mind. She gave Harry a small smile and shook her still captured hand. He released it immediately, managing to avoid embarrassment over holding her for too long.

"Parvati was dating Seamus for awhile," Lavender said sadly, brushing her hand through her blonde mane, face turned downwards. "Did you know?"

Harry nodded, recalling the unexpectedness of that revelation just moments after seeing Dean and Ginny locked in a rather passionate embrace in one of the secret passageways earlier in the year. One of many things he'd wished he'd hadn't seen or overheard.

"They broke up in late November," Lavender continued on, repeating the motion. "Seamus told me she didn't seem as interested anymore. A shame, really. Seamus is one of the more attractive males in our year."

Harry coughed. He didn't need to hear what Parvati and Lavender gossiped about, thank you very much.

"Sorry," Lavender apologized, surprisingly sincerely. She stopped stroking her hair and began fiddling with her robes.

"Go on," said Harry gently, eyes not straying from her face.

"Parv's been distant since before then." Lavender shook her head slowly. "I couldn't figure out why. I saw her sitting with Ginevra a number of times … I didn't think anything of it till now."

"Padma asked me to be there when she confronted Parvati," Harry said softly. "As you've probably noticed, it didn't go too well. Parvati is angry at me and jealous of Padma." He then added in a false cheerful tone. "It's pretty messed up."

Lavender genuinely laughed. "It always is with you."

Harry grimaced. "Unintentional, I swear."

"Is that it?" asked the blonde.

"No," Harry answered disdainfully. "The two fought – verbally, that is – until Parvati swore vengeance, or justice in her view, or something like that. Point is Parvati is not pleased with me."

"Me too," agreed Lavender. "That is me, her, not me, you." She added belatedly.

Harry blinked. "Okay, took me a second, but I got it."

"You've changed, Harry," Lavender said observantly, startling him with the comment.

"Have I?"

"Please, out of all the people in Gryffindor, I'd be the one to notice."

He conceded that point. Intelligence wise she was perhaps average, however she was one of the more observant girls in the school, just for the wrong reasons.

"I've had to," Harry said solemnly, beginning to trace random patterns on the cushion he was seated on. "My life isn't what everyone thinks it is."

"Us – we understand that now," Lavender explained, leaning closer to him. "Took a bit of time, but we do now."

Harry shrugged and smiled. What could he say to that? It's about time? No, silence worked better.

"Harry?" said Lavender tentatively, again, moving a little closer. She was now on the edge of her cushion, not a meter from him.

Harry maintained his gaze on her and nodded. The blonde sat up a bit straighter and tossed her hair aside with a flick of her head, characteristic of the women with long hair in his life. It was a gesture he enjoyed, pretty much regardless of who it was. Seemed he was a fan of long haired women.

"Are you going to bring the DA back?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied honestly.

"Why not?" Lavender, though appreciative of the honesty, did not like the answer.

"Can I ask what really brought this on?" asked Harry, deflecting the questions away from areas he'd have to hurt her by flat out refusing to respond to.

"We've seen you in classes lately, Harry," Lavender explained patiently. "You are consistently on par or better than Hermione and Padma, and they are the smartest of us! Without being insulting, until this year you were never better than a slightly above average student, except in Defence."

Harry wasn't offended, as it was an accurate observation. But things were different this year.

"You know magic that we don't yet. These cushions alone are beyond us. You are the most capable of anyone in this castle to keep us safe," Lavender said adamantly. "Snape knows his stuff and all, but he doesn't help those that don't understand something. You did, and still do when someone gathers the courage to ask. You were patient with us and taught us as much as, if not more, than Lupin or Mad-Eye Moody."

Harry shuffled on his cushion again and severed his eye contact. Praise was still a new concept, especially when put up beside the likes of Lupin, who certainly knew his stuff.

"I will give it a lot of thought." Harry told her. The girl smiled briefly.

"I suppose that's all I can ask for. It must be a lot of work, whatever you are doing."

For once she wasn't prodding for information to use. This Lavender was a sight to behold. The giggling schoolgirl was growing, albeit forced, like many others.

"You've changed too."

"I've had to," Lavender said, mimicking his own statement. "Parvati and I … aren't able to have fun like we used to now. Seeing some of our classmates leave after family members die… we can't ignore what's happening out there. Dean, Seamus and I discussed this and knew that you would be involved in some way. You're always involved."

"You're not wrong," Harry said, facing her again. "Did I answer you about Parvati? We kind of went off track."

Lavender smiled wistfully. "Yes, but it doesn't matter. I can do nothing but try and be her friend and hope she opens up to me herself."

She suddenly stood, fixed her robes and hair, stepped forward and, taking a hold of one of Harry's hands, gently encouraged for him to stand with her. He complied and was engulfed in a quick hug.

"You're a good person, Harry."

Then came something very unexpected. She leaned in almost too quickly for Harry's mind to keep up with and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then released him.

Slowly, Harry raised the fingers on his right hand to his cheek, uncomprehending the action.

Lavender smiled at him once more, turned and made her way to the door. Harry shook free of his sudden stupor and faced the retreating form.

"Lavender?"

"Yeah, Harry?" the girl replied, facing him once again.

"How do you know that what I'm doing is good for my body?" he asked, perhaps not the question he should have asked, but he had to know. "You only see me in robes."

Lavender smiled a big smile. "That would be telling."

In a much better mood, Lavender about faced and, walking with a tad too much emphasis on her derrière, left the room, leaving Harry feeling that he was in way over his head with the females in his life. Again.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Thanks for the help, Hermione," Harry said sarcastically as he slumped down into his chair beside the aforementioned girl, who was, amazingly, still working away as if nothing had ever disturbed her.

"Daphne's a bad influence on you," Hermione replied, turning a page in her book.

Harry silently agreed, but chose to scoff and reply that she had brought her to him. Hermione didn't respond, knowing that she had won already. Harry just looked up and examined the occupants of the room, thinking about the DA and, more so, the recent lip to cheek contact he had just had. It had been a long time since someone had done that, and it made Harry think of Fleur. He wondered if she and Bill had reconnected, if she had told him and if he had or would forgive her.

His eyes continued to roam and eventually fell on Lavender who, from across the room, waved and _winked_ at Harry. He looked away, facing heating.

"What did Lavender want?" asked Hermione curiously, finally laying down her quill and giving him her full attention.

She was looking tired but happy. She was continuing to run herself more than any other Gryffindor due to her additional subjects and their other activities. Harry had once tried a week before to get her to drop a subject, but she point blank refused.

"Parvati," Harry surmised in the entire conversation in the name. Hermione's mouth opened in the typical 'o' of realization and understanding.

"She okay?" she asked, searching the room for girl in question.

"Yeah." Harry replied. He leant back into his chair and furrowed his brow.

"What are you going to do about the DA?" asked Hermione.

"That's what I wanted to ask you," Harry responded, crossing his arms and facing her fully. It had been a long time since they'd shared a moment like this, figuring out problems together.

"I think you should do it." Hermione replied. "But this is your decision and your decision alone to make."

Harry gave her a quizzical look and wondered what she meant by that. Hermione gave him an insufferable look at his stalling.

"Will you really give it some thought?" asked Hermione seriously.

"Yes," Harry replied, leaning back into the chair. He shook his head and focused on the subject at hand. "How can I not? She actually wants to learn to defend herself. No offence intended, but if Lavender is keen on it, then most everyone else is as well."

Hermione pondered this for a moment, biting her lip in an unconscious motion.

"It would take time away from our version," Hermione said softly.

Harry didn't react outwardly. Hermione's words had only confirmed his initial thoughts on the matter.

But this was important too. It was selfish to say that his DA took precedence over teaching a larger group to defend themselves against Voldemort. His group needed the training if they were to survive, they all understood that. However, he could not leave the rest of the student body high and dry after they had asked for his help.

"I will think it over," Harry said again.

"You've already decided yes, haven't you?" Hermione was smiling at him in a knowing manner.

"Trust you to know my answer before I do," Harry grumbled.

"It's my specialty, Harry," Hermione mock chided. "Of course I'm excellent at it."

"Lavender kissed me on the cheek," Harry said pointedly.

Hermione's eyes widened, the pair rapidly setting off to examine his, trying to be, impassive face. He couldn't keep it up, however, and broke in to a small fit of laughter.

"Harry James Potter, you are having me on, aren't you!" Hermione said indignantly. "Well, if we're going to play it that way, what would you say if I _had_ snogged Viktor?"

"I'd be disappointed that you hadn't told me before now, for starters," Harry said cheekily. Hermione gave him a light slap to the shoulder, but the act was hampered by her sincere smile.

"Come on, Potter, I've got an essay to complete and you have a book to disturb me with every couple of minutes," Hermione said cheerfully, turning back to her work.

Harry grinned and picked up his book, opening it back to the page he was at before the interruption.

Hermione's quill scratching soon filled up Harry's ears again and he fell into a calm state, half-reading, half-contemplating.

"Here's an interesting one," said Harry a few minutes later. "Supposedly it can breach the skin of a troll and injure it." He looked up at smiled. Then in a faux-realization tone, he said, "Oh, wait, that's a simple Cutting Curse."

The quill stopped again. "You're lucky you're my friend, otherwise I'd send a flock of birds at you."

"You wound me, Hermione."

She reached over and stole his book, placing it with a thud on the other side, out of reach. "Just try it, mister."

Hearing the humour in her tone, Harry relaxed into his chair and sighed.

These were the good times. It was a shame the time would soon come where these times were few and far between.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was standing opposite Flitwick in the disused classroom that had become their meeting place throughout the year. Had the two not magically cleaned the room after their lessons, it would have been a rather putrid place to be.

Flitwick nodded at Harry, who raised his wand in preparation as a response. Without further adieu, the diminutive Professor raised his own and, silently, cast yet another Stunning Spell.

Harry's grip on his wand tightened as the spell rapidly closed in on him, the red light an all too familiar sight. Concentrating with everything he could, Harry released a small amount of his magic into the wand and, as the spell reached him, pushed it from the wand, dragging the spell to the side.

The movement took less than a second.

Unlike the previous time, the spell was redirected, but, unlike what Harry had hoped, the spell left his control mere milliseconds once it had cleared him. The red piece of magic fluxed in mid-air, and flew off uncontrolled into the wall, dissipating instantly.

Too much power. Again.

_Bloody hell__,_ he cursed.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A few days passed and the prospect of the weekend for the sixth years was a highly anticipated one. Those on top of their work were eagerly awaiting the trip to Hogsmeade, while those behind were welcoming the chance to catch up.

As it was the first since the failed attack on Harry, and because of him, Hermione – it was to be supervised heavily by the Professors.

The DA, having their priorities sorted out, was almost all free for the weekend. Given the only time Harry had anything planned for the DA this weekend was Sunday afternoon – the Saturday being used for Quidditch practice – certain someone's decided it was alright to leave their work till the weekend instead of finishing it during their multiple free periods during the week like the rest.

Harry, on Friday afternoon, was whiling away the time before an extra lesson with Slughorn. Neville was off with Katie somewhere, Hermione in an Ancient Runes class, leaving Harry to sit in his dorm without their company, as was the new norm.

Every time one of Slughorn's classes came around, the raven haired young man was sent into an unwelcome contemplative mode. Dumbledore's request for Harry to glean the memory of Tom Riddle asking about _'Horcruxes'_ hung over his head, eating away at his inactivity. He knew not what they were or why they were important, but for Dumbledore to give him this task, it had to be in some way, shape or form, pertinent to their current plight against Voldemort.

He had found himself in a stalemate. Try and fail, and it would become a massive task to squeeze out the memory. Without trying, though, he could not succeed. This was the quandary he was in.

It had been weeks since the task was set and, while Dumbledore had not mentioned anything about his progress in their conversations since that day, the wizened wizard had to be on the verge of losing some of his ever-lasting patience. So, Harry was convincing himself that tonight would be the night. After getting the overweight, overbearing Professor into a good mood, he would somehow find the moment to slip in the request.

Horcruxes…

The name did not sit well with Harry. It felt like he knew what it was, but not by name – as if he had experienced it but known it.

Tonight would be the night he would press for the memory.

Tonight would be the night he would learn exactly what a momentous task lay before him. And his perceptions of his future would change along with it.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Very good, Mr. Potter, another success, if I do say so myself," Slughorn praised joviality.

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied.

The two were situated in the potions dungeon, the light and warmth from the fire underneath the cauldron illuminating and staving off the coldness of late night in Hogwarts' dungeons respectively. Harry continued to stir the potion eight times counterclockwise and then three clockwise. Whoever had come up with the odd numbers had way too much time on their hands.

The fumes from the simmering potion were beginning to get to him. His eyes were watering, his head swimming, and he was feeling distinctly lightheaded. More than once he had to catch himself from falling out of his chair.

But there was another side-effect on both occupants of the dungeon. Out of place, it may seem, in the classroom and late in the evening, but both were feeling rather upbeat.

Was it coincidence that tonight had been the night Slughorn had desired Harry to brew the Euphoria Elixer?

The Elixer was originally used to combat depression. Unsurprisingly, however, more modern uses had become increasingly… shady.

Regardless, the Professor was in a good mood, albeit partly potion induced. Amazingly enough, the conviction Harry held earlier to get the memory had not been lost throughout the night.

"That should just about do it, Harry," Slughorn said cheerfully, his multiple chins flailing as he spoke.

"Yes sir," replied Harry, lifting out his stirring utensil. He picked up his wand from a bench beside him, littered with remnants of potion ingredients, and cleaned the residue from it. With care – Slughorn had drilled into him the importance of maintaining high quality utensils, cauldrons and ingredients over their time in this dungeon – Harry replaced the tool in its rightful place and turned back to the potion.

"Excellent work, m'boy," said Slughorn, leaning forward and taking a giant whiff of the emissions. His eyes glazed over for a moment as the mixture infiltrated his senses, inducing an increased flow of euphoria inducing hormones from his brain.

Harry slumped back into his chair, letting out a sigh of relief, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Potion making was tense work, for him. One mistake could ruin a potion. Snape had taken great pride in pointing that out to Harry.

Slughorn interrupted his new found relaxation by humming a tune. The man had procured a set of flasks from somewhere and had begun filling them up with the potion.

This seemed as good a time as any.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harry m'boy?" he replied without losing an ounce of concentration on his task.

Harry's eyes roamed the room, attempting to formulate the best possible way of getting results. Just telling him that unless he had that memory Voldemort couldn't be defeated seemed a bit farfetched. The prophecy would have been a powerful negotiating tool; however it probably wasn't wise to tell him that.

His eyes fell on a jar situated on one of the several cabinets along the walls of the classroom.

"Is that Basilisk skin?" asked Harry without thinking. If it wasn't, it looked awfully similar to the creature he barely survived against in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Oh ho!" Slughorn said triumphantly, placing a newly filled flask on to the desk beside him and began filling the next. "Very astute, Harry m'boy, you never cease to amaze me. It is indeed Basilisk skin. A very rare find, I must say. One of my most prized possessions, in fact."

Harry nodded, still eyeing the jar, thinking it couldn't be that easy, and not paying his partly undeserved praise any heed. After Slughorn had realized how far behind Harry was in some areas, he had made it his year's goal to bring Harry up to and beyond par in the brewing business. The Half-Blood Prince's book, much to Hermione's continued, albeit now silent, displeasure, was a _very _helpful tool in his growth in ability.

There were potions here and there that Harry found would be useful in the future, but he considered the class to be a sometimes amusing and sometimes irritating way to spend the evening, and little more. Given that the man could have been relaxing in his own room rather than teaching him, regardless of his motives, it would have been ungrateful of Harry to go to either Slughorn or Dumbledore and request that the lessons stop because of the lack of much worthwhile in his eyes.

"Snake skin, venom, eyes and fangs are found quite often in potions, Harry," Slughorn explained excitedly. "Basilisk skin, venom, eyes and fangs are so rare and so valuable that one does not use them for any old potion. Only the rarest, most potent potions are deemed fit enough to be brewed with ingredients from a Basilisk. It is a very rare treat for a potion maker to ever use them, one that many do not live to enjoy."

"Have you, sir?"

"No, no, not yet, Harry, m'boy, not yet," Slughorn replied, placing the fourth filled flash on the desk and shaking his a large finger at him in a mock chiding voice. "I have yet to acquire Basilisk eyes, damaged or not, or fangs and their venom. If you'll allow me, m'boy, I wish to have the others in possession before brewing the potion that people will remember me by."

"What if I was to tell you there is a dead Basilisk wasting away in this very castle?" asked Harry, his eyes never leaving the jar of Basilisk skin. He was hoping and praying that this would work. All other means of getting the memory had been wiped from his mind the moment he laid eyes upon the item. It seemed perfect… perhaps even too perfect to have seen this.

Slughorn paused in mid motion, the fifth and presumably final flask hung suspended half a meter above the concoction in the cauldron.

"I would be very interested to know where, m'boy," Slughorn responded, his giddy voice betraying the false-calm he tried to lay across. He put down the flask, the potion being put into the background of his mind.

"I could show it to you, sir," said Harry slowly. "For a price."

Slughorn did not seem to think this price of much import, his entire demeanor changing from calm disposition to eagerness for the location of such a magnificent prize every second that passed.

"Name it."

Harry sighed, again, hoping and praying this would work.

"Many years ago, you used to teach here," Harry began. Slughorn's attitude seemed to drop, even just a little. "There was a student, a young, promising student here that attended the Slug Club very often. He was a handsome young man; one who you knew would achieve great things. Everyone believed he would."

"He bought you your favorite treat, crystallized pineapple," Harry continued solemnly. Slughorn had sunk back into his chair, his chubby face transformed from the euphoria induced mood into a displeased, fearful one. The remaining steam from the cauldron, that had no doubt aided Slughorn's willingness to part with his Basilisk ingredient secrets, served no real purpose, in the end. The steam itself was not strong enough for one not to fight had they tried, and trying was Slughorn.

"He was the model student. But he asked odd questions."

"Mr. Potter, stop right there," Slughorn said seriously, getting to his feet so quickly his body fat wobbled and jiggled.

"He wanted to know what Horcruxes were," Harry went on as if no interruption had occurred. "What are Horcruxes, sir?"

"Dumbledore sent you here, didn't he?" Slughorn asked furiously. "I knew I shouldn't have come back here. Of course he wanted something from me. He showed you that memory, didn't he? Yes, he has, hasn't he? Of course, but then you know there is no more to it."

His voice was becoming increasingly erratic the longer he spoke, yet Harry remained calm and in control. Freaking out would not go down well.

"Sir, it is important."

"My memories, Mr. Potter, are mine," Slughorn retorted angrily. With a deft wave of his wand, the remaining mixture flew out of the cauldron and filled the flask forcefully, some spilling over to the side in the emotionally controlled piece of magic. Harry faced the Professor and looked up at him in the eye.

"As are mine, mine," Harry said honestly. "But we can choose to part with them for the good of others."

"The good of others, my dear boy!" Slughorn exclaimed exasperatedly. He waved his wand a second time and the flasks were sent flying towards the shelves on the edge of the room. Magic saved them from a detrimental end as they ground to a halt and, perhaps a little too forcefully, seated themselves on the shelf.

"There is no more to that memory than you have seen," Slughorn followed up adamantly, paying the rough treatment of the potions no heed.

"We both know that isn't true," Harry responded ever calmly. While the carelessness of the wand use was disconcerting, he knew that he was is no danger. An angry potions mentor was the worst outcome, along with failure to complete the assignment handed down by the Headmaster.

"That is quite enough, Mr. Potter," Slughorn said, walking to his desk and began fiddling with everything distractedly.

Harry stood slowly and faced the agitated man.

"You liked my mother, didn't you?" he asked, stating the obvious. Slughorn hadn't exactly been quiet about his praise about Lily Evans.

"Liked her?" he repeated incredulously. "How could I not? Brilliant at almost everything she put her mind to. Had she … had she …sur –"

"-Survived," added Harry helpfully. Slughorn shot him an irritated look.

"Yes, well, she didn't, did she?" he said irritably. Frustrated, he slammed his palms onto his desk, a tin of quills falling to the floor with an echoing clatter.

"You know your memory, and I know why Lily Potter was killed," Harry said, taking a step forward, his eyes on the man with the memory. "I believe they are connected."

Slughorn faced him, horrified.

"Dumbledore needs that memory, sir," said Harry whispered, though his voice carried in the acoustics of the room. "Voldemort –" Slughorn choked at the word. "- must be stopped. Are you going to let him get off scot free for killing Lily Evans?"

"You have to understand, Harry…" pleaded Slughorn. His demeanour was changing again, this time sullen and, possibly, fearful. "I can't just give it to you…"

"Why not?" pressured Harry impatiently. He was so close!

"It isn't that simple!" shouted Slughorn indignantly.

"Why isn't it?" he replied just as strongly. Slughorn met his eyes for a second. He saw it in there.

"You're afraid," Harry said pointedly. "That he'll find out you helped me. You shouldn't be. If these Horcruxes are important to Voldemort, he'll seek you out regardless of what you do. It won't matter."

Slughorn failed to respond.

"Basilisk ingredients are rare, right? They are worth a lot?" asked Harry. Slughorn nodded. "Then I'll take you to the one here. You can have whatever you can take at once and then once the year is over, leave. Leave England and don't return."

"I – I – I …" Slughorn struggled to say anything. He watched Harry, his face displaying a wide range of emotions from fear to self-doubt, to apprehension and, finally, acceptance.

With a tremendous and fearful sigh, he withdrew a small vial from a drawer in his desk. The top was removed and seconds later resided the memory Harry was after.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said sincerely as he took the bottle from an outstretched hand.

"I thank you, Harry, for giving me the option of leaving England. I must however decline," he said, his voice disheartened. "England is my home. I survived a year on the run; I'll survive awhile longer, m'boy."

Harry contemplated leading the man to the Chamber now. He had been serious in offering to lead him down there. The man, though, was in no condition to focus on gathering precious, delicate potion ingredients. If the potions master still sought out the Basilisk in the morning, Harry would lead him to it another day.

He had done it. It seemed so easy in the end. Perhaps luck was on his side? Regardless, pocketing the memory, Harry turned to make his exit. Without getting into an emotional filled argument, he'd managed to weed out the memory.

Daphne would be _so_ proud.

Without another word, for he had naught to say, Harry left the dungeons, leaving a suddenly tearful Slughorn to his demons.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Just open, please," Harry said, irritated at the gargoyles blocking his progress after three failed attempts at the password.

Unsurprisingly, they did not respond to him. Though he could've sworn the one on the left rolled his eyes at him. Smart aleck…

Harried footsteps reached his ears moments later as Harry contemplated his next guess. He spun on the spot, hand reaching for his wand in what was becoming a standard practice when being caught by surprise. His training, both with his Professors and the DA, was doing wonders for his battle readiness.

The move needn't have been necessary, as Harry found out a second later, when the Hufflepuff Head of House bustled into the corridor.

"Mr. Potter," Professor Sprout addressed him, surprised. "What are you doing here so late?"

Harry checked his new watch and noted the time was nearing eleven p.m. His lesson with Slughorn had run a little late, thanks to his questioning.

"Professor Dumbledore and I have something we need to talk about," Harry answered the Herbology teacher politely. "Though, I do not know the password."

"Come on, then," said waved at him to follow her as she stepped up to the gargoyles.

"Ice Mice," she said authoritatively, a contradiction to the odd password. The gargoyles shifted dutifully and the passageway opened. The two stepped onto the revolving stairs and let them move them upstairs.

"Something wrong, Professor?" inquired Harry at the fidgeting nature of the woman.

"Not at all, Mr. Potter," she assured him. "Just something seems to have been misplaced in one of my greenhouses."

Harry wasn't convinced.

"Enter." Dumbledore's voice reverberated in the small room at Sprout's knock.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, Professor Sprout, what can I do for you two this late evening?" Dumbledore greeted cheerfully, setting down what looked to be a foreign newspaper. Harry had to wonder when and for how long the man slept. Every time he was here, regardless of the hour, Dumbledore was ever alert and, seemingly, waiting for him.

"You first, Professor," Harry gestured the floor to Sprout. The Professor acknowledged him briefly before stepping forward.

"Albus, a large portion of chervil has vanished from Greenhouse six," Sprout intoned with the utmost seriousness. Dumbledore's brow creased.

Harry furrowed his own brow and tried to recall what chervil was. It did ring a bell but he couldn't recall where he'd heard it or what it was exactly.

"And you are quite certain, Pomona?" asked Dumbledore gently, interlacing his fingers with each other, elbows on the magnificently crafted desk before him.

"I have double and triple checked, Albus," Sprout replied, irritated. Of course she would have rechecked in case she'd made a mistake.

"I will look into it in the morning," agreed Dumbledore, nodding. "Thank you for notifying me."

Sprout, her business concluded, wished Harry a good night and left.

"What brings you to my office at such a late hour, Harry? Dumbledore asked once Sprout had closed the door behind her.

"What's chervil?

"I believe that Mr. Longbottom may be able to provide you with a better explanation," replied Dumbledore with a trace of amusement. "However, I can tell you that is a fairly widespread herb in Muggle society."

Harry slapped his hand to his forehead. "Oh, now I remember. It's an herb of some sort. A Muggle one. Aunt Petunia has some in her yard." He paused. "Why is it so serious if some chervil has gone missing? It's fairly common, as you said."

Dumbledore eyed Harry as if contemplating to answer him or not. "When grown in the right conditions and with a certain type of fertilizer, chervil gains special medicinal properties that are valuable to us. Hogwarts is the only known location in Britain to be cultivating this special form of chervil."

"Medicinal properties?"

"Chervil heals a variety of ailments. Burns, however, are healed quite effectively." Dumbledore continued to smile. Yet Harry felt the former conversation was over.

Harry removed from his pocket the vial filled with the memory he had sought and placed it between them on the desk. Dumbledore eyes never left Harry's as he placed the bottle on the table.

"Have you acquired the memory from Horace?" he asked, eyes twinkling, an old, tired smile on his face.

"Yes sir."

"Excellent, Harry," replied Dumbledore brightly. His smile grew and he seemed to be filled with youthful energy unbefitting of his age.

The Headmaster rose and retrieved his Pensieve from the cabinet it called home.

"Let us, Harry, travel once more into the past, for the answers to the present lay there."

-x-x-x-x-x-

Horcruxes.

Horcruxes.

Horcruxes.

A piece of soul imbued in an object, binding the soul to the earth.

And what was the price for such an act?

Murder.

What kind of person would do such a thing? What kind of person would tear their soul into pieces through murder and magically bind their soul to the earth?

It was impossible. It was inconceivable. It was a disgusting, vile and tortuous path to reach the closest to immortality any human could achieve.

But it was possible, it was conceivable, and had been done.

Riddle's Diary had been a Horcrux. A piece of soul imbued in an object that had slowly but surely overtaken the mind of Ginny Weasley as she poured her heart into it. It had manifested into a corporeal being as Ginny's strength had left her through their connection. Harry had pondered what magic could do such a feat while re-watching the trials in the Chamber of Secrets weeks earlier, and somehow this had not come as much of a surprise as he had expected it to.

Two of the same being _had_ to have the same soul, didn't they? He knew Riddle had had a soul. There was no chance that that methodical and intelligent teenager had been a mindless drone, what Harry had heard the victims of the Dementors Kiss became.

Marvolo Gaunt's prized ring was also a Horcrux, one that had cost Dumbledore his hand to destroy. Riddle had mentioned seven in his conversation with Slughorn. Dumbledore was not leaping to conclusions when he had expressed his opinion that there were seven pieces to Voldemort's soul.

Two were gone, but that left four Horcruxes and Voldemort himself to destroy.

Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket were two possibilities for other Horcruxes. The other two, though, Dumbledore had no educated guesses for, except for the possibility that they were an item of Ravenclaw and an item of Gryffindor, to round off the number nicely.

The only known item, to Harry, of Ravenclaw's was the diadem Padma had mentioned what seemed an age ago in her common room. It was lost, however, centuries ago.

Similarly, Gryffindor's only known item was the sword, and Voldemort had not had access to that. Dumbledore would've known if it were a Horcrux, as it was in his office, right under his nose, day in and day out. A man of that calibre wouldn't miss something like that.

A few hours before, his only task was to survive against the Death Eaters and then defeat Voldemort in a duel. Now, however, he had to destroy four pieces of Voldemort's soul and then defeat a wizard capable of binding his soul to the earth through murder?

His task had become monumentally harder.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"I – I can't believe it." Hermione whispered in disbelief, leaning back onto Harry's messed up sheets as they sat alone in his dorm room on his bed.

It was the following day. Hermione had already gone off to bed by the time Harry had returned from Dumbledore's office, and even if she hadn't, he needed time to sort out his mind, to make sense of Horcruxes. Now, the two had free periods. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville were out and about, giving them the solitude they required without resorting to traversing the castle in search of an empty room.

As would perhaps forever be, Hermione was the first Harry went to to discuss matters. The time where she and Ron had retreated into their own relationship had long since passed. She was back and, if she had any say in it, back to stay.

"I've heard of magics with the soul," continued Hermione in the same soft, awed and fearful voice. "But nothing has _ever_ alluded to this."

"This isn't something that would easily be found in the library," Harry reminded her, watching her eyes open and close repeatedly as she digested this information. "Dumbledore has probably removed all references to it from the books there. Horcruxes must be one of the Darker magics in existence. He wouldn't want someone to stumble upon it."

"That is a reasonable assumption," Hermione concurred with a small nod. The motion was hampered by the fact she was lying down on Harry's bed. Her bushy, untamed hair was spilled out above her head. Her legs were raised and feet were planted on the sheets. Harry shifted uncomfortably on his bed when he discovered his eyes were lingering too long on parts of her to be considered completely innocent.

"This … this changes our situation with the others." Hermione stated solemnly, interrupting Harry's musings.

"I know," Harry agreed dejectedly, leaning back into his headboard and training his eyes elsewhere, his right hand twiddling with his DA ring. "We have to tell them. And give them the choice to back out or not. Nobody could have seen this coming."

Hermione agreed without any hesitation, and promptly changed the subject.

"How are you coping?" she asked, sitting herself up and watching him, though he was watching the ceiling.

"I'm fine," Harry replied automatically, immediately putting a halt to his fidgeting.

"Honestly, Harry, you would think that after five and a half years you would know that that doesn't work on me," Hermione chided both seriously and amusedly at the same time.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head at her predictable response. Merlin knew what he would ever do without her, if only for the laughs he could share with her.

Head lolled to the side, he looked at his half cross, half amused best friend.

"Honestly, Hermione, I don't know how I'm taking it," Harry replied seriously. "It hasn't really sunk in, I don't think, what this all means. I thought it was just…" he sighed, "killing Voldemort. But there's a lot more to it now."

Hermione was silent for a moment, alternating between watching Harry and biting her lower lip, thinking, wanting to say something. The silence was only broken by the noises of students and animals outside the castle, braving the still cool winter air and breeze. The windows to the room were open ajar to let in fresh air.

"Voldemort is going to have his Horcruxes heavily protected," Hermione cautioned.

"_I've come closer to immortality than any other_," Harry recited as best he could remember. Hermione gave him an odd look, replaced with an understanding one a moment later. "Voldemort has made more Horcruxes than any other known wizard. And they're difficult to destroy." Harry shuffled forward on his bed and lay down on his pillow, unintentionally causing the bed to shake and disturb Hermione. She let out a small huff of disapproval that Harry didn't hear.

"Riddle's Diary nearly killed Ginny and you, and the Slytherin's Ring cost Dumbledore his hand," Hermione thought aloud, looking down at Harry.

"I know," Harry said warily, facing her. "_If_, and God how I hope it isn't the case, Voldemort notices his Horcruxes are being targeted, he'll make absolutely certain that nobody can get to them. That is if the rest aren't already under _Fidelius_ or something."

Hermione crossed her legs and slouched forward, furrowing her brow as she hammered her brain into action.

"I don't think we have to fear that."

"Why not?"

"Dumbledore managed to find Slytherin's Ring. It can't have been under the _Fidelius_."

Harry conceded the point, but was still a little distressed.

"We've been lucky," Hermione admitted. "Dumbledore found the Ring for us and the Diary was a mistake by Lucius Malfoy. Does he have any ideas where the others are hidden?"

"Educated guesswork," replied Harry quietly, "only takes you so far."

"Meaning he doesn't have any real leads?"

"That I know of, but that isn't saying much," Harry said disappointedly. "For all I know he knows where they are, but is content to tell me at the last moment, or once it's too late."

The promise to take him along the next time Dumbledore found a Horcrux location was not held in high esteem for the moment. Their tenuous relationship over the past two years continued to end each day unresolved. Frankly, Harry wasn't prepared to fully trust the Headmaster until he had finally leveled with him completely, as he had no doubts there was more to tell.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin searching for them," Harry added, waving his hand offhandedly. "They could be all over the world."

"We'll find a way," Hermione replied with conviction, staring him dead in the eyes. Her face was set in an expression he knew all too well.

Harry blinked.

"We'll…?"

"Oh, you better not get heroic and self-sacrificing on me, Harry James Potter," Hermione spoke warningly, shifting forward onto her knees. "I said we'll and I mean we'll."

Her eyes flashed with emotion and conviction, and she added in a low voice. "I'm not going anywhere."

Harry blinked at the intensity. Had he not been lying down already, it was possible the power behind Hermione's gaze could have forced him to.

"It'll be dangerous." He couldn't deny that he was worried for her safety. She had been petrified, her hands covered in Bubotuber Pus and nearly killed by Dolohov, to name a few things, because of him. This task would be much, much worse than their previous experiences.

"The wizarding world is dangerous, Harry. We know that better than most." Hermione countered immediately. She knelt in front of him, a hand holding her up on one side of him, the rest of her body on the other, trapping him, with her face quite close to his.

There was a time recently that they had been nearly this close and Harry couldn't help but take the back seat as his mind replayed that scene in early December. So close they had been to kissing each other, and here they were again, and it had not even been intentional.

Harry involuntarily licked his lips.

The sudden movement drew the attention of the brown eyes of Hermione Granger for a moment, before shooting back to Harry's conflicted green eyes. Her own were no less determined than ever.

She retreated slightly, grabbed a hold on his robes, gently, and pulled him back up to her level. Hermione didn't let go her hold on him in their new position.

"Were you planning on telling me to stay behind or something, Harry?" she asked quietly. He could almost hear the hurt in her voice. "Have I given you any reason to think otherwise? God knows why you would have even started the DA up this way if you weren't going to believe that at least I would stay with you."

Harry conceded her point, but could not dismiss the worry he felt for each and everyone one of his friends, and her especially.

"I…" he trailed off, not sure what to say.

Hermione moved in a little closer. The rate of their breathing quickened. The change, however, went unnoticed.

"Harry," she said evenly, quietly, staring him deep in the eyes. Harry, taken aback by the entire movement and situation didn't make to move or relinquish her hold on him. "I'm making this clear to you now, okay?"

Harry nodded, swallowing, the conviction in her voice and her proximity doing funny things to his head.

"I am joining you when you leave Hogwarts, Harry," Hermione said with all the conviction she had in her. "I may not like some of the things we have to do, but Horcruxes or not, I will support you and stand by you until you've ended this once and for all. I promise."

A long silence ensued. Harry was searching Hermione's face, searching for something he didn't quite understand himself. Perhaps it was some sort of visible sign that would dismiss her words as false, perhaps the opposite. Hermione held his gaze unflinchingly, almost challengingly.

After an age, Harry let out a small but genuine smile.

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, allowing herself to blink at last. She relaxed and smiled slightly at Harry, happy with the result. Honestly, she had been expecting more resistance. Then again, Harry now had grasped the importance of not doing everything on his own. The DA wouldn't exist otherwise.

She wiped away moisture in her eyes that Hermione would only admit to being there because they were open so long.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, brushing the last of the moisture aside, and, to his surprise, reached out and enveloped him in a hug. "Don't ever doubt it."

His reactions a bit behind due to reasons undecipherable by his mind, Harry belatedly raised his own hands and hugged back. It was a light hold, similar to those he had shared with other females in his life and, Harry couldn't help but think, did not do justice to the moment.

He pulled her closer, nestling his head on her shoulder and hers on his a moment later, after her surprise wore off. Her hair tickled at his face. Harry realized in their years of friendship that they'd never been this close before.

He ignored the tickling, however, and closed his mind off to any outside forces or disruptions, concentrating solely on the sounds of his friend's breathing and the surprisingly addictive feel of her body against his. Partly unconsciously and partly not, he pulled her in a little tighter, savouring the moment, the feeling.

Harry unconsciously craved this kind of contact. He did not have it as he grew up, no memory of a mother's touch. The gentleness of a feminine touch, something that Hermione was providing, was something he desired, even if his conscious mind didn't understand that. So he wanted this to continue, he wanted it not to end.

Hermione let out a gasp at the strength Harry exhibited but did not complain. If anything, she tightened her own hold for her own reasons. Perhaps she was fearful that if he let go, he would disappear, that the moment would end. Perhaps not.

The two of them had not shared many moments since the school year had started. That night had cost them almost an entire term of close friendship because of Ginny, her ambitions and her jealousy. It was as if all those missed moments they should have had were poured into this one, sole moment of sworn loyalty and friendship.

Hermione's conviction, her promise to stay with him through everything, though it would destroy her own dreams of being Head Girl and becoming the best student Hogwarts had had in many years, meant more than anything to Harry. Hermione, who had stayed with him through their troubled beginnings, their tumultuous adventures, near death experiences, mass murderers, rigged tournaments, his own attitude problems, and spell induced dilemmas, would continue to stick with him in these final, undoubtedly harsh and dangerous, steps toward the end. Consequences be damned. She would stay with him.

"Thank you," Harry leaned back and whispered in her ear.

Hermione raised her own head and faced him side-on, a hand reaching out and stroking Harry's cheek gently. She looked tired, but one of the happiest smiles he had ever seen on her face was there for him and him alone. "You're a prat for thinking otherwise," she said softly.

Harry didn't know what to say. He felt he didn't deserve this loyalty; felt he didn't deserve this friendship. She was sacrificing so much for him. And what could he do for her in return? Make sure she wasn't brutally murdered?

His thoughts were halted when Hermione began stroking his cheek again. It felt so soft, so gentle, and so nice... if time would just stop for him; let him savor this moment a little longer….

A rather loud and phony cough interrupted the moment. Harry and Hermione jumped at the sound, releasing each other, and Hermione, who had leant forward to embrace Harry, found herself ungracefully scrambling to sit back up, after overbalancing and crashing into Harry and then his bed.

The Silencing Charm that Harry always put up was brought down once Harry helped Hermione to sit up, blushing something amazing, and gathered his wand.

"Neville," Harry acknowledged.

"Harry, Hermione." Neville nodded to them both seriously, though poorly concealed was his interest in what had just transpired between two of his best friends.

"Don't even think it," Harry warned him, getting to his feet, seeing his roommate's interest. Just what he needed was more rumours about him. They were always _fun_.

"Hey, I saw nothing untoward, Harry." Neville raised his palms defensively.

Hermione stood up and fixed her own robes, an act that was probably a little suspicious in itself. She didn't meet Neville's eyes as she bid Harry a hurried farewell and left the room quickly.

Once the sound of her footsteps had disappeared Neville's will gave out and he sent Harry a large grin.

"So… are you and Hermione…?"

Harry sighed, expecting it but not disliking it any less.

"So… are you and Katie…?" countered Harry deftly, fixing his ruffled bed with a quick wave of his wand and then pocketing it, facing his roommate, ignoring the surprisingly strong hardness beneath his robes. The things women were doing to him these days…

Neville blushed a blush that could have rivalled Hermione's had she stayed.

"You'll understand later tonight, Neville," Harry explained. "After dinner, I have something to tell you all."

Neville cocked an unconvinced eyebrow, but quickly sobered, sensing the seriousness of the situation. He was glad for it, admittedly, and left the stammered excuses he was coming up with about his… whatever it was… with Katie, in his head.

"Got it," replied Neville, who promptly went to his bed, found the book he had originally come up for and returned to the stairwell and the common room.

Harry sighed and lay back down on his bed once he was alone again. He removed his glasses and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes, trying not to imagine what would have happened if he and Hermione had not been interrupted, for that would not help his condition.

Things had just gotten so much more complicated.

And he wasn't only thinking of the Horcruxes.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry stood still, wand raised, prepared for his next attempt at parrying.

Flitwick, ever patient, stood at the opposite of the room again.

"Ready, Harry?"

Brow furrowed in response, Harry tensed and gave a curt nod to his Charms Professor.

Instantly Flitwick's wand started into action, a quick, well practiced flick the movement.

Harry, concentrating strongly on the spell rocketing towards him, waited until the right moment and sent a slither of magic through his wand. He pictured invisible threads of magic reaching out and latching onto the oncoming spell. With the movement of his wand, Harry redirected the spell off course.

The spell whizzed past Harry's right shoulder, ruffling his robes, and connected with the wall behind him, dissipating instantly as the protections the castle had absorbed the damage.

Flitwick jumped on the spot and began applauding.

"Very good, Harry!" squeaked the Professor.

"Again," Harry ordered forcefully. He had not relaxed or moved from his position, except to bring his wand back in front of him.

Flitwick quieted almost abruptly. His demeanor changed, regarding his student seriously and, seeing something, he nodded, raising his wand again.

The same thing occurred.

Harry's magic expelled from his wand and barely redirected the spell past his right shoulder.

"Again."

This time, Flitwick cast an Impedimenta Hex. Harry did not visibly react to the change in routine, continuing to stay focused on the spell fired at him.

His magic expelled from his wand in the same fashion, the imagined threads latching onto the oncoming spell, and was redirected to the side once more.

Flitwick, without waiting for the order, cast again, and again and again, faster and faster. Harry was forced to move when he took too long to parry. He was no longer allowed the same amount of time to concentrate on each particular spell. In a real duel, this is more what it would be like. Spell after spell, no convenient pauses to re-gather himself. He had to be alert, on the move, be able to cast as easily as he breathed.

The walls of Hogwarts received a beating over the next three minutes. Over fifty spells collided with the wall behind Harry, who had kept moving from start to finish. His robes were smouldering, several spells having burnt through bits of the fabric on one the few occasions he had not been quick enough on his feet or with his wand. One had grazed his skin slightly, leaving a small but minor cut.

"That is enough, I believe, for tonight, Harry," Flitwick announced in a voice that brokered no argument. Harry nodded; panting from the concentration and physical exertion the evening had taken out of him, and fell to his knees, wand dropping at his side.

He let out a relieved laugh.

He finally got it.

Harry remained on the ground for a several minutes catching his breath and smiling to himself. It looked like he didn't need to bother Hermione into helping him learn parrying into the early hours of the morning, like he had with the Summoning Charm so long ago.

Thinking of her… he wasn't sure what to make of their newest situation. Was it only he who had felt something more, as if it had more substance than ever before, to their embrace? Or was he reading too much into it? He had the same reaction to Padma, had the same reaction to Fleur… though she perhaps wasn't the best example.

Harry sat back up and shook his head clear. He had to meet the group. The first meeting since…

Considering everything, the meeting was a success, yet…

They started with twelve. Now they had eleven.

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N: **I originally intended to have the DA meeting scene in this chapter too, but this felt long enough at nearly fifteen thousand words. That, and this serves as a better cliff-hanger than the practically non-existent one that would occur otherwise. It also means that the next chapter won't be so visibly shorter in comparison to the previous two.

Slughorn trading the memory for the large monetary value of Basilisk products is hardly original, but after watching Chamber of Secrets earlier in the evening when I originally wrote this scene (the scene in the Chamber is one of my favourites from the movies), it felt _right_ to do that. Playing on the man's greed is what JK did, anyway. Just with an Acromantula rather than the Basilisk.

On the subject of Horcruxes, I plan to have them in different locales (might have been mentioned); in case you couldn't tell by Harry having the locket but not realizing it. I do ask if there are any fics around that contain well done Horcrux defenses as I expect Voldemort would use his darkest and most secret magics to protect his own 'precious'.


	18. The First To Fall

A/N: Two lines are from canon. Aren't mine, not making money etc. etc. As far as I can tell, this is the last one. But I may steal a line or two from Godric's Hollow in DH, as that's the only time where anything may overlap with canon from after this chapter.

I'd like to thank Seratin, Rob, Perspicacity, Mike, and Thor_nairda for their assistance with the bathroom scene.

And, as always, thanks to chem prof for beta reading. This would far less readable, otherwise, and that'd be a bad thing.

_**Chapter 18**__**: The First to Fall**_

Dinner blurred by in a haze of steak, potatoes, pumpkin, and, naturally, pumpkin juice. Harry and Hermione sat on opposite sides of Neville, who didn't look too pleased with the arrangement considering what he had seen earlier in the afternoon. He shot the two of them constant conspicuous glances, as if worried the two of them might suddenly wish to embrace again and he was hoping to be prepared to move out of the way when that time came.

There was the impending meeting with the group that Harry was dreading – dreading because he could not predict the reactions. He could not lie to his friends, or withhold information as the situation may be, of such magnitude when their lives would be on the line. Perhaps that was a personality fault, perhaps it wasn't. Regardless, how could he expect them to put their trust and faith in him if he didn't do the same?

However, this presented the be-all, end-all decision. There couldn't be anything worse than Horcruxes that Harry was unaware of, surely. That meant that this was the final choice.

The rest of the DA sat around them, excluding the sole Slytherin as always, chatting amicably about whatever mundane or class related subjects rattled off their tongues. Harry and Hermione were fairly quiet, for similar reasons. And that included not only the conversation on the horizon.

Harry had quickly come to believe that had Neville not interrupted there wouldn't be the sudden awkwardness he could feel between himself and Hermione. As much as he wanted to blame Neville for that, it wouldn't do any good. So, what if he hadn't interrupted? Harry wasn't certain he liked the alternative any better or worse.

He'd talk to Hermione later, of that there was no doubt. But first, there was something of greater importance to discuss.

The group retired to the Room a short while later. Inside, Harry called for a word before they began. Over the weeks and months, Harry had gained a certain level of genuine respect for his character and abilities rather than simply his fame; he no longer needed to request silence when it was clear he had something to say.

Finally, Harry sighed and began to explain what Slughorn's memory had entailed, and what exactly that meant for him, and by association, them.

"These Horcruxes need to be destroyed before Voldemort can be," Harry summarized solemnly. "You've already seen how dangerous Riddle's Diary became, and the Ring cost Dumbledore his hand. There are five left."

This would be dangerous, this would be difficult, and their lives would be in constant peril – more so than they had previously believed. Voldemort would not have his Horcruxes unguarded, and it was safe to assume that his darkest secrets, the depths of his knowledge of magic, would be used to protect his most precious items.

The group was silent, and not for the first time after having bombshells dropped on them unexpectedly. The internal reactions varied. To some it only enforced their beliefs that only Harry could do something about this. Given that Dumbledore, Slughorn, Harry, and now the lot of them were the only ones aware of the Horcruxes, on their side, from their knowledge the Ministry had no chance of putting a halt to Voldemort himself, regardless of their policies, actions or leadership. Simply alerting them to their existence would be disastrous – if Horcruxes became public knowledge, the results would be mind-boggling. The best one could expect the of the present Ministry was to adequately defend the likely points of attack and dwindle down the numbers of Death Eaters, captured or casualties, over an extended period of time. But that wouldn't stop Voldemort. It would only delay the inevitable.

"Unbelievable," Neville said out of the blue. He blinked a few times before shaking his head and collecting himself. His one word statement had drawn everyone back to reality, however.

"That explains a few things," Padma thought aloud. At the many odd looks she received, she elaborated. "How he could have survived. No ordinary magic is capable of that."

"Have you ever heard of them before?" asked Harry hopefully. Any more information that he had could only improve how he felt on the matter, particularly on how to destroy them – Dumbledore hadn't mentioned that part, if he even knew.

"No. I'm afraid not." Padma shook her head.

"How can you be so bloody calm about this?" Katie asked, unfolding her arms and closing the short distance to stand in front of Padma. She stood before her challengingly. The Indian girl narrowed her eyes and examined Katie's furious face. Padma could tell it was hiding her real feelings.

"Have you heard of a façade, Katie?" asked Padma with an edge to her tone. The way it was asked left no doubt that it was a rhetorical question. Katie processed this and, for a long moment, maintained her challenging expression. Then her eyes softened slightly. She slouched a little, mumbling an apology. Padma ignored it, focusing her attentions on Harry and the subject at hand.

"You said Dumbledore guessed the other Horcruxes to be three objects the Founders owned and the snake, correct?" asked Padma. Her focus was alarmingly strong on the subject, as a way to keep from worrying about it, possibly.

"Two of them are Hufflepuff's Cup and Slytherin's Locket judging from that woman's memory," Harry replied. "It is guesswork."

"Guesswork is all we have right now." Padma dismissed his negativity. "It's a base, something we can work from. Hermione and I can research what other Founders' items there are, and see if we can find where they are and what has happened to them in the last… what, fifty years?"

"But aren't there at least a dozen items to each Founder?" asked Neville. "Gran told me some of the stories behind them when I was younger. I'm certain there were at least two dozen stories, and my memory of back then isn't that great. There could be more, many more."

"Some of them have been lost or destroyed over the years," Su said quietly. "There would be a lot less now than there were back when those tales were written. I can't imagine there being more than a dozen left."

"She's right," Hermione agreed with a nod in Su's direction.

Ernie stood up from his seat, attracting everyone's attention. His face was set hard in a neutral expression. "Just wait on a moment, people. Have we all decided to stay already? Did I miss something? This isn't something to be taken lightly! We need time to truly think on this."

A satisfied grunt of approval came from behind Padma. Katie was standing there, having moved while the conversation had continued, and apparently finally found something that she agreed with.

Here they were, discussing the idea as if they'd already agreed and moved on. Wasn't anyone else concerned that they were getting in way over their heads? Sure, the idea of creating a team to combat the Death Eaters was fantastic. The reality, though, with Harry at the helm, looked only to be more and more dangerous as time passed. Horcruxes? Items that held pieces of soul that they would have to destroy? Most likely guarded by the strongest and Darkest magics known and unknown? She would get her hands dirty for Quidditch, but it appeared that nothing except death was on the horizon for her down this path.

"All right, then," Neville said, again breaking the silence that had ensued. With hands gesturing to the other eight who were to respond – he assumed Hermione already had agreed – he said, "Then let us now decide on it. The way I'm feeling, we're nearing our time. We make our choice now and we stick with it." He linked eyes with Harry and gave him a definitive nod of agreement. "I'm in." He looked around at the rest again. "Are you in, or are you out?"

"Neville, are you serious?" asked a disbelieving Katie. Neville spun and faced her. His face fell a little at her expression and her tone. His less-than-ever chubby face displayed, interestingly, resigned acceptance.

"I am."

"Why?" Katie's voice was barely audible even in the silence of their audience.

"Harry's my friend," Neville replied simply. That was enough, to him. But it wasn't enough for Katie.

"So?" countered Katie, again quietly. She was distressed, though not yet to the extent for it to be obvious to an observer. However, her voice began to rise the more she spoke. "Being friends with someone and fighting Dark Lords together are _very _different from each other!"

"Katie, please, calm down. Listen," Neville said soothingly. He moved over to Katie and gently ran a hand up her arm, trying, perhaps in vain, to defuse the situation he appeared to know was inevitable.

"When I went with Harry to the Department of Mysteries…" began Neville. He hesitated, took a deep breath and continued. "I've never felt prouder of myself for standing by Harry, helping him fight the Death Eaters. I've always been the one who got laughed at, for being the one with the toad, always losing Trevor, for being not all that talented, or any bad little thing that was happening to me at the time. Gran, and even my Aunts and Uncles, were never more proud of me either. But it's not just them. It's me. I wasn't all that useful in the end, with my broken nose and all. Yet, I did something. I helped make a difference. From that I'm changing. We're all changing. I am who I am now because of Harry, Hermione, even Ron."

"I want to help," Neville said with as much conviction as any had seen from him. "If that means my life will be in danger… I won't lie; I'm not ready to die. I'd sooner flee and finish my education at Beauxbatons, Durmstrang or even have a private tutor than willingly die. But I'd never forgive myself for not helping now that I can. Harry and Hermione may not be able to do this on their own. They asked for our help, and I'm not going to deny mine to them."

Although none of it was intentionally directed at Harry, he felt a rush of gratitude towards Neville. Again he questioned what he'd done to deserve such loyalty, but then, as Neville had said, that wasn't all of it. He was staying not only to help Harry end Voldemort but he was also staying for his own reasons.

Katie had her face downturned as she absorbed Neville's mini-speech. She did not speak for some time. Neville stood by, patiently, worriedly, waiting for the time when she would respond.

In the meantime, Harry was searching the faces of the remainder of the group to try and glean a reaction from them. He could sense that it would be better to leave Katie alone, and moved on.

His eyes found Daphne, standing aside from the crowd, arms crossed under her chest, a slight pity filled look on her face as she watched Neville and Katie. She felt Harry's gaze on her and faced him, her face cleared instantly of any pity. It was more solemn now.

Daphne appraised him from afar for several moments before nodding once. He had her answer. But then Harry had not expected anything else. Why should the introduction of Horcruxes affect her desire to leave the castle? For all he knew she would leave the group the second they were off the grounds. She would take no part in their hunt if that were true. Harry wished he could understand her better.

What was her ambition? He had tried not to give it much thought, as the impassioned way of which she spoke of her own did not sit well with him. Despite that long conversation in the Hospital Wing, he still knew very little about her. He knew he saw an act most of the time, which made it even harder to understand the real her, her desires, attitudes and her motivations.

Was she spending all her time here simply to get Harry to bring her along? No, there was more to it than that. She had said as much – that her ambition would be achieved easiest around him. If nothing else, he could count on her to be with him as he left Hogwarts. From then on, however... their future was uncertain.

"It really doesn't need to be said," began Padma. Harry wasn't the only one surprised by her speaking. Katie and Neville, and everyone else, all had their eyes on her. "But I'll say it anyway. I'm in."

Padma sent Harry a challenging look, as if daring him to object. He had objections, the same as he'd had for Hermione – he didn't want to see her hurt because of her association with him. But he knew he'd allowed them the choice. It was their life, their choice.

And so far, four had chosen to stand beside him.

Susan was whispering into Hannah's ear when Harry laid his eyes on the pair. As always, they were seated together. They were seated closely, facing each other on a slant, hands next to each other.

Susan stopped whispering and gave Harry a quick smile. Hannah noticed him too and repeated the expression before whispering into Susan's ear. Their discussion appeared grave. And with no end in sight, Harry continued to wait.

Ernie was holding onto the back of an armchair tightly. Harry could see his knuckles whitening with the pressure. That was worrying.

"You alright Ernie?" asked Harry when the male made no move to lessen his grip. Startled, the Hufflepuff let go of the chair and stuck his hands in his robes.

"Quite," Ernie replied succinctly.

"You sure?"

He nodded curtly as a response, but did not do anything else.

Harry, not for the first time, wondered if Ernie was up for this. His reactions of late, as with Katie's, were not positive. Harry had tried to prevent his subconscious from believing that the ten he and Hermione had picked would stay together till the end. He had not succeeded in that regard. Seeing how poorly two of his number reacted… it wasn't easy. It left him a little despondent. Despite the successes, the losses would always weigh heavily on his mind.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder, Harry faced Hermione. She was biting her lip again. She was worried about something, and it was presumably Katie's reaction. She leant in closer and for a moment Harry's mind went back several hours to their conversation and contact in his bed. His heart beat faster and he was certain he was blushing, or at least about to. He was saved, however, from any comments when Katie finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I can't."

Harry's stomach dropped and he could feel and taste his disappointment. His mind rushed through a series of possible responses, each inadequate or less than pleasant. He knew it wasn't fair to her; however there was often a difference between logic and human reaction, and his reaction was to be disappointed in her, disappointed in losing someone, disappointed, even if only a little, in himself for that.

The rest of the group had their own reactions, but Harry had eyes only for Neville and Katie. Neville was still holding onto Katie's arm. His head was downcast too, his face pained, and his arm probably clenching, trying to hang on to Katie.

"I – I can't, I'm sorry," Katie continued. She was still facing the ground, ashamed, perhaps, of herself, and unwilling to look her 'friends' in the eye. "This isn't me. I thought it was, thought I could change and help and fight and duel. But I can't."

"Katie…" said Hermione softly. She stood and went to try and offer some comfort or reassurance to the girl, but Katie stepped back, out of Neville's grasp, and finally faced the group.

Her face was red, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I bet you're all disappointed in me for this. I'm sorry, I really am." She looked up and faced Daphne. "You're right. Some people aren't cut out for this. I'm one of them." Daphne raised an eyebrow, probably the greatest amount of surprise she showed in public, but did not respond.

Katie turned and faced Harry. "I'm sorry I'm not who you want me to be. I am who I am, I guess. I'm just not the right person for this. Good luck, Harry. I really hope you can find all the…, uh, Horcruxes."

The eldest in the room gave a small, pained smile, then turned and walked off.

"Katie, wait!" cried Neville. He quickly ran after her. Katie stopped and faced Neville as he held onto her arm again and began talking. However, no sound could be heard. It took Harry several moments to realize that Neville had taken use of the Room of Requirement and sectioned off an area to give them privacy.

He continued watching them, not entirely surprised at her reaction but still shocked. Such great success he'd had in recruiting, such great success he'd had until now. It took the wind out of his sails.

"We're in," Hannah said after several moments. Harry looked over to the two Hufflepuffs. They were holding hands – _to give each other courage?_ Harry wondered – however, their faces were determined.

"Are you sure?"

They exchanged a glance and said simultaneously, "We are."

That made six.

"Thank you."

What else could he say?

The pair gave him such sweet, innocent, but not quite innocent, smiles. It made him think briefly of their 'offer' and all the goodness that that would mean. And he also wondered just how serious they were about that, or if they were simply teasing him.

"I'm in too," Su said. "I don't want to sit idly by while my best friend is out risking her life for those that don't want to fight."

Harry blinked in surprise. That was seven – seven out of eight. He could still taste the disappointment with Katie but it was rapidly being buried beneath a near overwhelming sense of gratefulness towards the friends he'd made. Friendship and family, that's what made life go on, wasn't it?

Aside from Neville and Katie, who were still talking, the persons in the room switched focus to the two yet to answer – Luna and Ernie. Luna was, as appeared to be her usual 'thing', staring off into space. She did, however, lack the serene smile that usually graced her face. Even Luna with her eccentricities knew when it was appropriate to be serious. Ernie, on the other hand, was still silent and appeared so out of it, as if he'd hit the ceiling if someone addressed him, from the shock.

"Luna, Ernie?" said Harry tentatively. Luna jumped a little.

"Oh, are we up to me now?" she asked with all the innocent ignorance of a much younger girl. "I'll have to let Daddy know that I won't be joining him on our hunt this summer. He'll be so disappointed."

"Would he be alright with you coming with us? I mean, it'll be a dangerous mission and all. And then you're underage, and won't be of age for some time, either."

"If I'm with you, it won't matter."

Having not met Luna's father, who must be pretty peculiar to have raised such an unusual daughter, Harry couldn't disagree. Though it didn't sound like good parenting to him. So, in an odd way, that made eight of nine – discounting himself, Hermione and Fleur, the latter of whom he would have to talk to about this when he saw her next. This wasn't something that should be done through correspondence, special box or not.

So, this left Ernie.

"I need more time, Harry. I need time to make a decision," Ernie said as the attention of the room shifted from Luna, Neville and Katie to him, Neville and Katie.

"That's all right," Harry replied. The lack of straightforward response, however, was ominous. To be fair, this was a difficult decision, one that, as Ernie had stated earlier, should not be taken lightly. Harry simply wished he could've had an outright yes or no, as the indecision and wait was worse than direct rejection.

"That's it, then," Hannah said, rather upbeat, considering. "Except for Katie and Ernie," whom she then shot a dissatisfied look at, perhaps feeling the same as Harry on the matter. "We have our final group, yeah?"

"Looks like." Padma smiled at Harry. She then turned to face Neville and Katie, who were still talking but it appeared almost over – Neville was slouching slightly, and Katie had her arms crossed and wouldn't look at him. "I can't help feel sorry for Neville."

"He knew it was coming. Surely you saw it," Daphne said. The young woman started pacing. "And I'm certain Harry knew it too, from her reactions and performance."

Hannah's face twisted into one of distaste. Susan, however, stopped Hannah from saying something she would probably regret. They still didn't like her.

Then, Daphne added, "Some people simply aren't capable of performing adequately, but there are those who lack the confidence despite the talent. Katie is one of them."

"What makes you think that?" asked Padma, curious to understand the girl's insight into people's personalities.

"She hesitates," Daphne replied. "Her spell casting is far from perfect, yet sufficient. She hesitates in her movements, when to strike, dodging, everything that'll keep her alive in a real fight. It's why she loses."

Harry contemplated that for a few seconds until he was distracted. At that moment, Katie started walking towards the door. Within seconds she was gone without looking back and Neville was left standing alone. The Room of Requirement was hushed until Neville finally moved and made his way back. He sat down on a chair similar to one in the Gryffindor common room and closed his eyes.

"I think it's safe to say our number is now eleven," Harry said to Neville. He nodded once and that was that.

Several minutes of idle chat passed before Hermione announced that they should start on something or give up for the night. It was quickly agreed that they should practice more and within minutes they'd begun to duel and accept their situation in their own ways. It was only after the night was done and the others had left that Harry found a chance to speak with Neville alone.

"How are you?" asked Harry, taking a seat across from a replica of the Gryffindor common room fire, and beside Neville.

"Could be better," was the honest reply.

"Want to tell me about Katie?"

"Not really." A beat. Then, "But I suppose I should."

"It does help."

Neville gave him a skeptical look. Harry shrugged. It did help when he'd finally told Hermione about Fleur. It didn't help much, but it did help, and at the time it was enough.

"If you say so," Neville turned pensive. "We… started talking after that first meeting. I mean, you and Hermione are always together and I didn't want to intrude." Harry was going to interrupt to say otherwise until Neville raised his hand. "It's okay, you two are closer than you and I will ever be."

_He's probably right_, Harry thought.

"So, being the other Gryffindor in the group, Katie and I spent some time together when she wasn't with her other friends." Neville continued. "It was… nice. We got on well. Surprisingly well. I mean, it's me. You and I both know how awkward and pathetic I was over the years."

"You aren't pathetic," Harry said. Neville's self-deprecation was something he was familiar with. Strange how the roles were constantly switching – now he was the one trying to convince the other they weren't feeble.

"Thanks for saying it," Neville grimaced. "I feel different since that night at the Ministry. Like I am finally proud of who I am. That's the reason Katie even looked my way twice, I'm sure. Anyway, we got… close."

Harry couldn't help wonder how close. Was it as close as he'd been with Fleur? More? Less?

"And I learnt things about her," Neville said solemnly. "She told me how she didn't think doing this was what she wanted after all," he gestured around him – the Room of Requirement. "We talked about it. I tried to find out why exactly she thought that. I never did get a clear answer. Part of it, I think, was because of how she lost most of her duels. Another part of it was merely being afraid."

He sighed deeply.

"You two broke up, then," Harry said sadly. Neville looked at him curiously and Harry nodded over towards where the two were talking. "I put two and two together. I'm a little less dense than I used to be."

Neville gave him a curious look. "Yeah," he replied, turning back to the fire a second later. He slouched a bit more in his seat out of weariness, physically and emotionally. Break ups tend to drain someone. "Don't know what to do about it, either."

"Move on sounds about the right course," Harry offered. "Unless you can talk it out together… but this might be one of those things that's too much of an issue."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "You're filling me with confidence right about now."

"Just telling you how I see it." Harry shook his head.

"Say, Harry, you certainly sound like you've got experience here."

"Oh, I'm filled with helpful knowledge," Harry said with false cheer. "The things I can tell you about the women around me this year."

The two talked for awhile longer. Harry learnt more about Neville and Katie, separately and about their relationship. By the end of the night the two were closer for it. Something about someone's problems and someone else helping them did that.

Harry lay in bed that night, yet again contemplative. He'd been so absorbed with his own dramas that he hadn't given any consideration to the others. He'd even forgotten that the others, the ones who weren't friends with him before this year, had their own friends. What was happening with those friendships? Were they suffering due to the secrecy? There were just so many consequences.

They'd started with twelve. They were now eleven. Would that be it, or would there be another to leave?

-x-x-x-x-x-

Days quickly passed and life returned to its semi-normal state for Harry, and for everyone else. Harry noticed that Neville was more subdued than normal, no doubt helped along by what he learnt in their conversation. Katie was… distant was perhaps the right word. She'd made her choice and Harry had come to accept it. Daphne was right – this wasn't for everyone. Katie was simply the first to admit it.

His extra lessons were still going relatively smoothly. Flitwick was continually pleased with Harry's progress, as was McGonagall; however she showed her praise in a different fashion – Gryffindor was currently in the lead for House championship yet again. Slughorn had chosen to conveniently ignore their exchange about the Horcrux memory. Perhaps it was for the best.

Nevertheless, no matter how much good there was around, there were still problems. The biggest one was the constant thorn in Harry's side since his origins in the Magical world – Draco Malfoy.

He knew he was up to something in regards to Voldemort. This had been all but said aloud at the start of the year during their first confrontation. He knew it involved the Room of Requirement. He knew another bunch of important – but at the same time useless – details. He knew things, yet lacked any of the specifics that would enable him to do something about it. Unfortunately, there was no way he knew of to gain access to the Room that encompassed what Malfoy ordered it to without knowing what he was up to, and that he could not determine unless he got in there or got it out of Malfoy, creating an almost endless cycle. The only option to end said irritating cycle was to confront the Slytherin. Problem with that was that this was something Malfoy wouldn't just blurt out after being riled up.

The widely disliked boy was being far more cautious than ever before. This was evidenced by Daphne, her involvement, and the magical oaths that prevented anything accidentally or willingly spilling out, at least without the loss of magic and or life. The oaths interfered with any hopes of interrogating one of the other students involved, such as Nott and Parkinson. Again, it came down to confronting the Slytherin.

He wouldn't give up Voldemort's plan for him easily. He was now a Death Eater, and was proud of it. Though he did not look well of late – which, Harry suspected, was attributed to the plan not going well – he was still loyal to his father and, in turn, the Dark Lord. Worse, if he snitched, willingly or otherwise, he would be punished severely, if not killed outright. With the life of his father also hanging in the balance regarding his success, chances of anything besides downright, unabashed force were non-existent.

Said force would not go unnoticed. Snape was continuing to watch Malfoy carefully. Snape would see that Harry would be expelled for trying anything. Prophecy or no prophecy, Harry wasn't confident that Dumbledore would be able to defy student, staff and media pressure, to keep him enrolled after blatantly attacking a student, particularly one who was a known adversary.

But inactivity was not a viable option either. His indecisiveness regarding this quandary was understandable, but nevertheless frustrating.

And then something had changed when he returned from the Christmas holidays. Malfoy was even further withdrawn. The only conclusion Harry could come up with that made sense in the situation was that he'd met Voldemort or at least had a message sent to him that did not bode well for him or his father if his task wasn't completed soon.

The rest of the DA had their opinions, some choosing to be more vocal than the rest. "Let's quit lounging about and get a move on, then," Ernie exclaimed, his hands gesturing to emphasize.

"For once, I agree, Harry," Susan, usually silent during these moments, spoke up.

"We've been through this –" began Harry tiredly.

"Do you have any plan or initiative at all, or are you content to shout out what _we_ should do?" snapped Daphne at Ernie, overriding Harry's response.

"You're not helping any," muttered Harry, giving her a half-hearted glare. He was not in the mood for bickering, or any of this indecisiveness at all. All he wanted was that clear solution, the one they had presumably missed that would provide an out. This waiting game was painful – just like it had been the last time.

The group had put aside the issues of Horcruxes for this. If nothing else, Malfoy was something the lot of them agreed had to be stopped.

"Calm down everyone," placated Hermione, getting up from her seat in the Room, hands up in a soothing gesture. "This is getting us nowhere."

Many grumblings followed until each had quieted down. Relieved, Hermione brushed a loose strand from her cheek and sat down again, giving Harry a weak smile. He offered silent thanks, and remained still for the time being.

"But… what are we going to do?" inquired Hannah into the silence.

-x-x-x-x-x-

More days came and went, along with classes, homework, assignments, and several more instances of fighting in the halls along with rendezvous in an increasing variety of areas in the castle. January neared its closure. Life continued. But the world around Harry and the DA weighed heavier than those of their peers. There was only so much one could take before frustration mounted and reeked havoc.

It was by complete accident that Harry and Malfoy crossed paths, and in the oddest of places.

Most students avoided Myrtle's corridor, despite it being shorter in distance to a number of classes, due to their rational dislike of the ghost. Harry didn't like the ghost either, but he wasn't concerned enough to bypass the corridor that passed her bathroom.

It was the sound of a door opening and closing up ahead as he neared the bathroom that drew his attention. Harry was a curious person, and his curiosity questioned who was willingly entering Myrtle's bathroom.

Harry, alone, slowed to a quiet stroll and strained to overhear any sounds from inside the bathroom. There was naught, which was unusual. Rarely did Myrtle ever greet someone entering her abode with absence of a rather noisy racket. He knew this from experience.

Harry noticed the door was not properly shut. It appeared closed from a distance; however it was still slightly open. Still, no sound emanated from the bathroom. Gently, and as silently as he could, Harry nudged the door open.

Muffled mumblings reached his ears as his ears adjusted to the silence. He leaned closer, sparing the corridors leading to the bathroom the barest of glances to ascertain whether he was alone or not, to the door and strained his ears further.

"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't … tell me what's wrong … I can help you …"

"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can't do it … I can't … it won't work … and unless I do it soon … he says he'll kill me …"

Harry saw, with no lack of shock, that Malfoy had tears streaming down his cheeks. It was a sight he would never have pictured he'd see. In fact, the boy without any expression besides amusement, arrogant superiority or a surprising variety of sneers and dissatisfaction was a rarity in itself. For the slightest moment, Harry pitied Malfoy. He could not resist. A difficult situation, Malfoy found himself in. No person of sixteen years should have held such pressure. The boy was no more than a product of his upbringing.

But that was also the problem. Because he was a product of his upbringing, he was an enemy to Harry, one that was working for Voldemort, one that held information he needed, one that was tasked with something – regardless of how poorly it was progressing – that would no doubt cost lives of innocents, that was a result of his declaration of loyalty to Voldemort. He could not allow himself to spare sympathy for Malfoy. He was an enemy, he had proven that when he took the Dark Mark.

Harry stepped forward, into the room. His eyes lingered on Malfoy, who had yet to notice him. Myrtle was whispering comforting words. Malfoy was nodding, though appeared too wrapped in his tears to listen. With a disgusting sound, the pale, blonde boy blew his nose and wiped his face clear. He nodded once more and looked up into the mirror. It was only then, when he peered into the mirror above a sink he stood before, did he notice an eavesdropper in the form of Harry.

Immediately, hands dashed into robes, seeking armament to attack and defend. Harry was a little quicker, having not expected the sudden negative action so early on; he was without his wand in hand already. It was a foolish mistake, but one that did not cost him.

Wand held aloft, tightly within the grasp of his right hand, Harry studied the unmoving form of Draco Malfoy. His own wand was in his right hand, though at his side. He had ceased his draw once Harry had aimed his wand at him. A scowl crossed his face.

"Potter," spat Malfoy scathingly. The act was filled with practiced malice. It was less pronounced and honest than it had been in previous encounters, disrupted and lessened by his red rimmed eyes. He'd been caught at a weak moment.

"Malfoy," replied Harry evenly, holding his wand steady. Given the chance, Malfoy appeared to be willing to curse him. He could not allow him the chance. But he needed answers, now he had the opportunity. He, however, would not be the first to attack. "It's been quite some time since we've had a conversation, hasn't it?"

"Stop this!" bellowed Myrtle, her pale form floating in-between the two wizards. Harry had forgotten about her since the two had drawn their wands.

Now that she brought attention to herself, for a brief moment, Harry wondered why the girl would allow someone who no doubt had ill intentions to confide in her. But that was an easy question to answer, though it brought up many problematic issues. She was lonely.

"Please, Myrtle, move aside," Harry implored in the same tone he had greeted Malfoy with. It was neither irritated nor pleased. It was neutral. He could not show weakness before the enemy. It did, however, have the desired effect. Myrtle floated aside and remained silent. She did, though, never cease sending both living occupants in her bathroom worried looks.

"I doubt we have much time, Malfoy," began Harry, thinking about Snape and how he was always around this boy. "So let's skip the insults. You're a Death Eater. You have the Dark Mark. You have been tasked a mission by Voldemort. Your mission isn't going so well. Are you with me so far?"

Malfoy was silent. He had reacted to the name of his Master, but did not seem surprised by anything. Perhaps he should not have. After all, he had given away as much at the start of term or just minutes ago.

"What is it that Voldemort assigned you do here?" asked Harry gravely, tightening his grip on his wand. The chance he'd been waiting for was finally here. The moment he could finally take a step forward and make certain that Hogwarts would remain safe for the time being. He, as said, would not be the first to strike though. That was important.

"My mission, Potter, is something given to me by the Dark Lord himself," Malfoy sneered, his voice filled with believable arrogance. That is, if one could overlook the pale, tear stained cheeks and reddened eyes. It didn't make him look intimidating at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. He looked pathetic. "You think I would speak of it to you? Are you beyond deluded, Potter?"

"Never the easy way," muttered Harry, taking a step forward. Malfoy stood his ground. He did tense and lick his lips nervously, though, his wand hand tightening.

"Harry, please don't harm him," Myrtle pleaded, floating beside his body and staring at him hopefully.

"I never knew you had it in you to weep, Malfoy," Harry taunted, ignoring the ghost girl. Despite his taunt, he was neither amused nor pleased by this revelation. It was to garner a response, naught more.

Self control was the only factor in preventing the pale boy's cheeks from flushing.

"Please Harry, Draco, don't fight."

"Using her, too?" asked Harry, still ignoring her, but flicked his eyes in her direction briefly. She was clearly upset – more legitimately than usual, as well. It was annoying.

"Quiet, Potter! You can not grasp the magnificence and ingeniousness of the Dark Lord's plans."

"You don't deny it, I see," Harry responded airily.

"Stop it, stop it, spot it!" screamed Myrtle incessantly.

"Do you not understand who this is and what he is up to?" Harry snapped, fed up with her. "Or do you not care for the safety of the students here in Hogwarts? Do you want them to come to harm?"

"Harry –" beseeched Myrtle.

"Bloody hell, Myrtle, his Master is the man who killed you!" Harry yelled.

"No… no, I don't believe you. Liar!" Myrtle let out a blood curling scream. The noise was amplified by the castle walls and Harry moved to cover his ears.

Whatever else there was to be said between the two was drowned out as the world around them turned to chaos.

The moment Harry had taken his attention away from his opponent, he had acted. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry had spotted movement. Cursing himself internally for his error, Harry rolled to the side, dodging an incoming set of spells. He came to a halt just before the first stall, wand held in palm.

The two wizards held each other's gaze for a long moment. Both of them scrunched their noses as the scent of burnt rubber assaulted their senses. The wall behind where Harry had stood now contained a dark patch. The protections on the castle normally absorbed any damage to walls instantaneously. Dark magic, it had to have been, to leave such a wound on the foundations. It would disappear within seconds, but the stakes had been decided.

"Stop it, stop it now!" Myrtle shrieked. Neither wizard paid her any mind.

"You can cast silently," Harry stated more than asked from a crouching position on the floor. "I'm impressed."

Malfoy sneered, wand held in preparation to strike or shield. He made no further motions to speak. Instead, he jerked his hand and released a jet black spell. Harry stepped aside and parried it with ease. A loud, echoing crash filled their ears as the parried spell collided with one of the stall walls and shattered to pieces.

Harry regained his footing quickly. The sound was enough of a distraction. He instantly waved his wand like a whip, thinking _Plecto_ – the incantation to the percussive spell Hermione had used against Yaxley. A loud crack echoed in the small bathroom, causing a brief ringing in the occupants' ears. Wincing at the sound, Malfoy dodged to the side. He was aware of the spells intentions, though not the trajectory. The spell impacted on one of the sinks near the entrance to the Chamber. The sink was ripped from the wall and smashed onto the stone floor. Shards scattered, laid broken on the floor. A water pipe ruptured, clear water spilling out in the air. An arc formed behind Malfoy.

The sound of rushing water filled the ears of the childhood enemies. Spells and other sounds become less audible over the torrent. The Slytherin barely managed to shield against a follow up barrage. None of the spells were more serious than a Reductor Curse. Harry knew stronger spells, knew ways to stop an attacker, but he wasn't out for blood, just to disarm and then question.

A streak of pale red escaped the Slytherin's wand. Stepping to the side out of the line of fire, Harry parried the spell, recognizing it as a simple _Incendio_. A second later he parried a second spell, this one a purple color and one he was not familiar with. The malevolent feeling that washed through him as the spell breezed past left him with no doubt it was something Dark. The parried spells collided into separate walls of the stalls, the first catching alight, the second splintering, twisting apart, shards coating the floor and commode.

Myrtle screamed, ducking and weaving every which way.

With a decisive wave of Harry's wand the water froze completely. From the pipe mouth to the last droplets that had spilled to the floor, it was frozen solid. The sound of the torrent of water diminished instantaneously.

Unprepared for the sudden change in terrain – the water had covered much of the floor in the short time – Malfoy, slipped and fell to the ground as he made to move aside. A second wave and a jet of familiar red light followed him down. Malfoy, however, recovered quickly enough to put up a shield and avoid unconsciousness. The shield was dropped with a furious wave and a sickly yellow spell spouted from the wand tip. Harry tried to move out of the way in time, but was forced to shield. The shield shuddered under the weight as the spell impacted. Harry nearly had to take a step back with the unexpected power behind the spell, before it finally dissipated.

Harry maintained his eye contact with Malfoy, who stood, shakily, breathing heavily. His eyes were searing with hatred and… desperation. His attacks had proven fruitless. And Harry was barely even sweating. Most of it was from the tension rather than exertion, too.

"Give it up, Malfoy," Harry called out commandingly. Surely someone had heard the racket and was on their way. He did not wish to still be engaged when that person, presumably Snape, would arrive. This needed to end, and he still needed answers.

Malfoy clenched his wand tighter. His response was another spell Harry didn't recognize, which was easily parried now that he was adept at it. The spell collided with a toilet. The white fixture began to melt. Harry scrunched his nose in horrified disgust as the smell and sight hit him.

"I gave you a chance, Malfoy," Harry murmured, facing him again. Harry wanted to give Malfoy that chance, the chance to choose sides once and for all, and hopefully choose the right side. His response – the instant an opportunity arrived – to attack confirmed his decision, however, in Harry's mind. There was no doubt that Malfoy was an enemy. He had not hesitated to harm. He was an enemy. That was all there was to it now. No more chances.

"What are you doing in the Room of Requirement?" demanded Harry.

Malfoy sneered – the only response he seemed capable of. "You really _are_ deluded if you think I'll talk."

"Give up, Malfoy. You've lost. You can't defeat me. It's useless to keep fighting. Now answer the question," Harry said ponderously, resolutely. A twinge of pain came from the back of Harry's head. He winced.

"The Dark Lord will succeed, Potter," Malfoy replied smugly, superiorly. His disheveled appearance, however, lacked his usual grace. "You can't stop him."

"Cru-"

"Sectumsempra!"

Malfoy's face, seconds earlier covered with spiteful arrogance, was now wide with shock. Blood, dark red blood splashed onto the floor, staining it instantly. The cool, clear ice instantly darkened with the life liquid.

Another scream, louder than before, filled the room. Myrtle was screaming something, hollering for attention, but Harry's mind had shut it out. He was horrified, horrified, as he watched as more and more blood spurted from Malfoy's chest and left arm.

He had reacted. Malfoy had begun to cast an Unforgivable, and he had reacted. He knew not why, but that spell was the first that had come to his mind.

The door to the bathroom slammed open, startling Harry. Snape hurriedly took in the shattered stalls, frozen water and floor, his eyes lingering on Harry, searing hatred etched on his face, before he noticed Malfoy, now collapsed, on the copious amount of blood on the floor, staining it, poisoning it. The man's expression changed to fear, and he rushed over the distance and sat before Malfoy, drawing his wand. The man began making unusual noises, almost as if a song, while he waved his wand over the wound, leaning the boy up against him.

Harry stood in disbelief. How had this happened? It was never meant to go this way. He wasn't supposed to have cast that spell, Malfoy wasn't supposed to be bleeding throughout half the room, dying on the floor before him.

Slowly the sound returned to the room. Myrtle was somewhere above him wailing loudly, still yelling gibberish at him. Harry couldn't think properly.

He had gravely harmed a human being. This wasn't a prank, a harmless injury that would be forgotten in a week. Had Snape not appeared, Malfoy would be dead right now. He still may not live, and that thought sickened him. He may hate him but there was a dramatic difference between hate and killing someone.

In a way, he had killed before. Quirrell had died by his hand, as had the Horcrux of Riddle's Diary. But this was not the same. This did not, could not compare. This was more real.

There was no control over his hands that had burnt Quirrell to death. He had no grasp of that power, and it was no longer available for him. The memory of Riddle was not real; it was not known that it was a piece of a soul at the time. He had dealt with that and moved on. The knowledge that the shade of Riddle had been a part of his soul had not changed that at all, strange as it may seem.

Here, however, he had been in direct control, with a real human life, one that could not be confused with a shade, in the balance. He had cast a spell, and it was killing Malfoy.

Enemy or not, he was still a human.

Despite his words, he did not seem prepared to kill after all.

Harry took a step forward.

"Potter," Snape spat hatefully. "Stay."

"He attacked me," Harry responded slowly. "It was self-defense."

"That will be determined soon enough," Snape said. Though his attention was still on Malfoy, his tone and implied message was unmistakable. _You will pay dearly for this, Harry Potter._

Malfoy, who had been silent, wide-eyed with shock, the entire time, let out a whimper. The two were startled by the noise.

"Do not even think about leaving, Potter," Snape said with cold fury. Even had Harry not been as shocked as he was, he probably would not have disobeyed.

Snape, covered with blood, lifted Malfoy off the ground with his wand and left the room, giving Harry a severe, contemptuous look as he passed. The door was closed with a sharp bang behind him and Harry was left alone with the sounds of a crying Myrtle.

"You killed him! You killed him!" she kept whimpering hatefully.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. What had happened? He'd come in to question Malfoy, he'd been attacked, they'd dueled, and Malfoy had been about to cast an Unforgivable, so he'd defended himself.

He took a deep breath. He wasn't in the wrong here.

He opened his eyes.

"You were watching the entire time," Harry addressed Myrtle. "You know he attacked me first, you know he was casting far more dangerous spells than I was."

"You still killed him!"

Sighing, Harry sunk to the ground and waited. Myrtle continued to give Harry murderous looks while he did. Harry tried to ignore her as much as possible.

Killing was something he knew was going to have to happen. He had to kill Voldemort, if no one else. The Department of Mysteries also proved that he would have to seriously harm the Death Eaters to keep them out of the fight and not allow them to be revived with a simple "_Rennervate_". The reality was… hard.

An indeterminate amount of time passed. Harry didn't leave; he couldn't even if he wanted to. He had to see this through, and how would it look if he did leave?

Snape returned a dozen or so minutes after he left. The door slammed shut behind him as he swooped into the room.

"Potter," spat Snape distastefully. Harry got to his feet slowly and stared back at the man. "I never thought you the one to know such Dark magic. Where did you learn that spell?"

"A book," replied Harry immediately. "I didn't know that was what it would do."

"A book?" repeated Snape. "What book is this?"

"I… don't recall." He hesitated.

"You're a poor liar, Pottter," Snape sneered. "You know exactly what book it is. Tell me."

"Fine, it's a potions book," Harry said with contempt. "I got it from the student storeroom at the start of semester because I wasn't aware you weren't teaching Potions this year. Someone else has written in it and this was one of the spells."

Snape was impassive for a long moment. His lip then curled.

"You will bring me this book, now," Snape ordered.

Harry made to leave the room.

"Do not delay, Potter," Snape said softly. If Harry didn't know better he would've thought the tone implied a threat.

Ignoring him, Harry passed through the door and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

The Half-Blood Prince's book… who was this person? Until this point, Harry had believed the book to have been an incredibly lucky find. Several of the spells written in the margins had become useful additions to his repertoire. Never until now had he truly considered who the Half-Blood Prince was.

"Merlin, Harry! Are you alright?" asked Ron, taking in Harry's ruffled appearance, once he had returned to his dormitory. Had Harry not been so deep in thought, he might have offered a response. Instead, he dived into his trunk, searching for the book.

What was he going to do? Would he give the book away, for surely it would be confiscated? Did he even want to keep it, knowing now what he did?

The answer was no. He did not want it anymore. As nice as it was being excellent at Potions because of it, the accolades were not worth the trouble.

Decision made, Harry left a perplexed Ron and ran past a dozen or so curious students to Myrtle's bathroom. He paused outside and attempted to catch his breath. Fit or not, five floors both ways was quite the run with robes on your back.

Once ready, Harry opened the door.

Snape was still there, surveying the damage the duel had caused. Harry was certain he knew who had done most of the damage, but he was even more certain that Snape would attempt to set all the blame on him.

"This is it," Harry said solemnly, holding the book out. Snape turned and allowed his eyes to meet with Harry's. There was no attempt to break into his mind, this time. Snape snatched it out Harry's hand and examined the front and back hastily, his black eyes set impassively.

"Where did you acquire this from, Potter?" he asked quietly, his eyes now examining the inside of the book.

"I told you. Slughorn – err, Professor Slughorn gave it to me at the start of term," Harry replied honestly. "I was not aware he would be teaching Potions this year and had not gotten my supplies. I was using this book until I had my own, however the edits to the instructions proved to perform better than the standard ones, so I kept it."

Snape was eerily silent as he continued his examination. He turned to seemingly random pages quickly, eyes raking up and down the page in an instant before turning to the next. Harry was intrigued by the reaction.

But what was most intriguing was that Harry knew which pages Snape was turning to. Snape's surprising precision in his page turning left little doubt in Harry's mind.

Snape knew this book.

Finally, the book was closed with a snap, and Snape eyed Harry a second time. His eyes bored into his soul. As quickly as he could, Harry closed his mind off. It was done just in time, too, as he felt a jab at his mind not even a second later.

"That is illegal, _Professor_," Harry said as neutrally as he could manage. The feeler left his mind. Snape sneered briefly. With a twirl of his robe, he breezed past Harry with only a soft whisper of 'come'.

Giving the room one last look – the damage, the duel, the consequences of what had happened - Harry followed Snape out of the door and began the march towards Dumbledore's office while Snape locked it behind him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"I see."

Dumbledore, as always, sat in his chair awaiting the arrival of the student and Professor. He, though, was not amused this time around.

Snape had, at the first opportunity, related a cock-and-bull theory about Harry attacking his upstanding student, who had been unable to defend himself, to the Headmaster. To be fair, it was plausible and sounded like something he would've done in the same timeframe as the incident after his Quidditch match the year before. Still, it was ludicrous when all three occupants of the room knew what Malfoy was up to. In the end, Harry had failed in keeping completely quiet. He'd snorted a few times at some of the lies Snape was spinning.

Dumbledore had remained silent throughout the exchange. He stared off into the distance, thinking.

Harry stood stock still and silent, awaiting his turn and explaining his version that was bound to come. The Half-Blood Prince's potion book had been presented. If Dumbledore recognized the literature, he did not reveal it to Harry's watchful eye.

The Headmaster nodded to himself and then locked eyes with Harry. He held the gaze unflinchingly.

"Your story please, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore spoke quietly.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied respectfully. This was one of those times when he did need to be on his best behavior, for it would reflect poorly on his character otherwise. He took a deep breath and began.

He told of how he'd heard someone in Myrtle's bathroom as he passed and how he was curious. He told not of what he overheard, instead only what had happened once he had entered the room. He told of the duel and how it had ended, but not the words exchanged in-between.

For a long time, Dumbledore sat in silence, contemplating, at the close of the tale. Harry shuffled from foot to foot, feet beginning to ache at the constant time standing stock still, awaiting the response. He was unnerved at the lengthy delay between the tale and the response. Never had it taken this long before.

"Albus, if I may –"

"I've heard enough, Severus," Dumbledore cut in, in a tired tone. "I have no doubt that Mr. Potter's memory will prove his innocence, and I am certain you are aware of this too."

The heavy handed rebuke came as a surprise to both of the other occupants of the room.

Suddenly, Dumbledore blinked and focused directly on the pair anticipating his response.

"Mr. Malfoy will recover without complication, from what Poppy and Serverus tell me," Dumbledore explained, more for Harry's benefit than anything else. He nodded his understanding and was thankful, surprisingly.

"But this is a serious matter, Harry," Dumbledore intoned gravely. "It is common sense to not perform a spell you do not know the function of. Disasters may well await those that do. We have witnessed here one such."

Another time, another place, Harry would have responded negatively to this. The spell had entered his mind so abruptly, so unexpectedly that his mind had gone ahead and performed the spell before he could think it through. Though, one could not truly think matters through in the throes of a duel. Harry remained silent.

"It can not happen again," Dumbledore said, but it sounded more like an order than anything else. Harry shuffled on the spot, disconcerted by the tone.

"Serverus, I wish to converse with young Mr. Potter in private," Dumbledore spoke commandingly. His volume did not change, however his tone did.

"Headmaster –"

"Serverus, do not make me repeat myself," Dumbledore interrupted warningly. It brokered no argument.

A flicker of anger crossed the Potion Master's eyes. It was gone within the same second, and had Harry not been purposely watching for a reaction, he would have missed it. The two shared their gaze a moment longer. It was just long enough to pique Harry's curiosity. There was much more to their situation than he knew.

With a dramatic swish of his robes, that threatened to hit Harry, they came that close, he left the office in a rush. The door shut loudly. Harry would have rolled his eyes had he not been focused on more important matters.

Once the door was closed, Harry opened his mouth to speak. Dumbledore raised his palm, requesting silence. Harry complied.

"Recent events and years of experience, Harry, have led me to believe that there was more to your tale than you have yet to, or wish to, share," Dumbledore began quietly.

Harry nodded, knowing there was little to gain by lying here.

Satisfied, Dumbledore continued. "Your motives, I'm certain, were just, Harry. However, I request that you explain them. I can not have students running amok, fighting each other without consequences."

Harry was seconds away from mentioning that scuffles were a common activity in the halls nowadays. The only reason he held his tongue was because this did not compare to the mild bruising that the worse off students tended to receive. Until now, the fights had not progressed beyond a broken bone, and that only the once.

"Sir, you are aware of my views on Malfoy and my suspicions on his actions?" half-asked Harry formally. Again, this wasn't the situation to speak to the man as if they were on overly friendly terms.

"I am," Dumbledore replied.

"When I saw Malfoy in the bathroom, he was crying, speaking to Myrtle that he was failing his task and that he would be killed because he was," Harry explained. "Malfoy spotted me before I could hear any more, and drew his wand on me immediately. I was quicker. We exchanged a few words, before Myrtle distracted me and Malfoy cast the first spell. I had him cornered, and asked about what his task was. His response was to attempt the _Cruciatus_ on me." Harry sighed. "I have no clue why, but the spell I used came to my mind first. I panicked, I suppose."

A moment passed.

"Sir, do you know what Malfoy is trying to achieve?" asked Harry dead seriously. The two locked gazes, and yet another silence ensued.

"I am aware that he has been set a task for a long period now, Harry," Dumbledore answered after deliberation.

"With respect, sir, that doesn't answer the question," Harry replied, dissatisfied.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as the two maintained eye contact.

"That's very astute of you Harry," complemented the Headmaster. "I am not privileged to the details as of yet."

Something in the tone, or perhaps Harry's own suspicious, told him otherwise. His earlier frustration at the lack of anything progressing on this front arose again. He decided to push his luck.

"You said earlier in the year," continued Harry hesitantly. "That without compelling evidence little could be done to expel Malfoy. If you know that he is still working for Voldemort here at Hogwarts, why are you letting him go on?" Harry's voice gained steam as he continued. "Even if he doesn't get expelled, why not put an end to his… mission, or whatever? Whatever it is will result in harm to innocents, sir. It is dangerous let him run on without… _consequences_."

Harry did not feel particularly proud of himself for turning the Headmaster's own words against him. His opinion on the man was still fluctuating, never quite trusting but no longer distrusting, either. This, however, was something he could not simply ignore.

"I understand your point of view, Harry," Dumbledore consoled in the same grandfatherly tone he usually used with him. For not the first time, Harry wished the man would show a little more emotion. Frustration, irritation, anger, pride, worry – any of the emotions would add weight to his words that they could not carry without. "I assure you that actions are being taken to prevent any possible eventuality."

"Like, what?" responded Harry immediately. He regretted it instantly, for both its crassness and immaturity, and his tone. Still, it needed to be said.

Dumbledore's eyes lost their twinkle.

"I can't help thinking that nothing is happening," Harry continued mostly undeterred. "I mentioned this to you early in the year and again several times since then. I've overheard that Snape has an Unbreakable Vow that is somehow involved, I found out that Malfoy is working on whatever he is in the Room of Requirement, and I'm certain he was involved in placing the necklace in my pocket and Hermione's attempted murder."

He finished in a dangerous tone, his expression turning grave. "I come to you for help, sir, yet you haven't given me anything in return to show me it is worth it. You've said your door is open to me always. What is the point if nothing is done?"

Dumbledore had let Harry speak his mind without interruption. Now that Harry had concluded, the Headmaster surveyed him quietly, and then responded.

"We are in a precarious situation, Harry," Dumbledore spoke wisely. "We know of young Mr. Malfoy's task, and if his efforts are continually focused on that, there won't be any other dangers directed at the school. He is being carefully monitored. He will be stopped before he can harm others."

Harry swallowed that and thought carefully before responding.

"I can understand that, sir," Harry replied. "But that still leaves the student body in danger. I know you care about their welfare. There must be an alternative."

"I'm glad to see you are thinking this through, Harry," Dumbledore responded appraisingly. "Yes, there are a number of alternatives, each as unsatisfying as the next, however. We can not lose the edge we have against Voldemort's plans for Hogwarts for as long as we can hold onto it. As long as young Malfoy's task continues, Tom will continue to focus his efforts elsewhere where the Order and Aurors can make more of an impact."

"And if we do?" asked a solemn faced, irritated Harry. "If he finishes and… it works before we can stop it? What of the students then?"

"It will not come to that," Dumbledore said with a tone of finality. This conversation was coming to a close. Harry, still unsatisfied, wanted to press further, ask more, and demand proper answers. The man knew things, but he still wouldn't budge. Weren't they supposed to be open with each other? Weren't they supposed to work together? Weren't they supposed to defeat Voldemort, and not fight each other?

"I'm not sure how long I can continue trusting your decisions, Headmaster," Harry said quietly. "I know you have your reasons… but if you do not share them with me, I can't understand. And if I can't understand…" His gaze lingered on Dumbledore a little longer. An unspoken message passed between them, and Harry made a decision. He turned and left the office with barely a sound.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. He sat back into his chair and tried to relax. He closed his eyes and rubbed his injured hand. It was paining him again; try as he might to hide it.

His plan was already in motion. Harry would hate him for it, of that he was certain now, but he wanted to end on his own terms, and this provided the perfect opportunity. If the sacrifice was trust… trust was important, however perhaps it would prove a necessary sacrifice to accomplish the task.

The day grew weary. What remnants of sunlight remained disappeared as the Headmaster sat in silence, staring out the window, still deep in thought.

_You've come a long way, Harry. You may not need my help at all. But please, please be patient a little longer._

-x-x-x-x-x-

Frustration upon frustration did not lead to a cheerful demeanor. Of this, Harry knew well.

He had tried to be as polite and straightforward as he could without resorting to anger and frustration filled arguments, like he had at the end of the previous year. Consequently, he had nothing to show for it. And that only served to fuel his increasingly foul mood.

However, there was enough common sense in his head to note that he had many things to accomplish and he could not let his irritation interfere. He had made his choice. Now that he was aware that Dumbledore would not do anything until it may be too late, he had to prepare. Not just himself, but everyone else.

So he sought out the one who had brought up that topic to him recently.

"Lavender, a word?" whispered Harry. He had found her in the common room, surprisingly neck deep in her own homework.

"Okay," Lavender said brightly. She stood up quickly, dropping her quill, her homework immediately forgotten. If anything, she was positively gleeful for the distraction.

Harry led her outside and cast the usual privacy charms. Lavender gave him a curious look and waited for him to speak.

"Are you still serious about the DA?" asked Harry, getting straight to the point.

"Yes. Absolutely," Lavender replied adamantly. Her eyes widened slightly, comprehension dawning on her. "Does this mean…?"

"Yes, I've decided to start it up again," Harry answered her unfinished question.

To his surprise, she let out a small squeal. She threw her arms around him quickly, drawing back before he even realized he'd been hugged. He shook it off as quickly as he could as Lavender beamed at him.

"Let everyone know," Harry requested. "Sunday, straight after lunch, same place as last year."

"I'll get right on it," Lavender said enthusiastically. She stepped past him, the spells breaking as she did, and set about spreading the word. If any Gryffindor could spread the world as quickly as possible, it would be Lavender.

Next, Harry visited Hermione and let her know what he had done in the past few hours. She wasn't pleased with Harry using the spell from the Half-Blood Prince's book, citing her earlier reservations. However she let it go quickly, seeing that Harry had turned in the textbook and was still slightly shaken by the events. She also agreed that reviving the DA was the best thing they could do to ensure that, in case anything happened that they could not prevent, the student body would be reasonably prepared.

Hermione had more to discuss, however.

"Harry, I've been thinking," Hermione whispered. They were standing on the stairs to his dormitory, as it was the only place devoid of people presently.

"Hmm?" was Harry's response as he refrained from making a smart remark.

"What destroyed…" she took a quick look around and made certain with her wand that they weren't being overheard. "…the Horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry cast his mind back to that night. "The Basilisk fang?"

Hermione shook her head. "I believe it would be likely that the venom is what destroyed the soul piece."

"Okay… what about it?"

"Basilisks take many years to decompose, Harry," Hermione explained patiently. "That means its remains will still be there."

"And that means the Basilisk fangs would be too," Harry finished for her. "Of course, why didn't I think of that already? That doesn't matter. We can use them to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes. That's great!" Harry paused, realizing an issue. "How can we store them? The venom is very lethal."

"Standard potion flasks should be ample. We can charm them to be unbreakable," Hermione said offhandedly. "We can go down there when we have time and gather what's usable."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Could he be so lucky to have one of perhaps few items in the world that could destroy Horcruxes nearly in his grasp? Could it be that simple, or him be that lucky?

"Have you found any other information on them?" asked Harry. "If we can find something we should try and get it in case we need an alternative to destroy the Horcruxes."

"No, the library has nothing in the public accessible section, and I doubt Dumbledore would have information on them as easily reachable as that."

They talked a little longer until Harry and Hermione decided to, after the meeting on Sunday afternoon, gather the other DA members and make the trip into the Chamber of Secrets. They also briefly discussed Dumbledore and his less than helpful answers. The incident only aided his deteriorating opinion of the Headmaster.

The other event of the day was still on his mind, too. One day soon he would perhaps encounter the situation he had talked about, where it would be him or them. He hoped with all he had that killing someone would be easier, though all the while knowing it wouldn't be.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The remainder of the week passed quickly. Harry and Hermione were kept busy with questions from their peers coming from all sides, all day. The word had spread with the usual speed and fervor that he had come to know with the rumors regarding himself over the years. It had only taken an hour before the first three fellow Gryffindors had come asking if the rumors were true. They left both pleased and curious. The process repeated numerous times that evening alone.

The rest of the DA had expressed their curiosity and concerns at breakfast the following morning. Harry explained what had happened, his reasoning behind it, and that they would only have to sacrifice a short amount of their own practicing time if they wished to attend. Each of them was more advanced than the remainder of their fellow sixth years, and the material covered would have to compensate for that. Surprisingly, nobody declined. Their help would be appreciated, especially after noticing that many in the school were discussing the news, and that number was far larger than his DA from the previous year.

Finally, Sunday arrived. Over one hundred and fifty students were gathered into the one room. There were many Gryffindors, a number of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and – perhaps the most interestingly – two dozen Slytherins. Daphne was present, as was Tracey Davis from their year. The rest were younger years, perhaps not as caring about the hatred for Harry as the rest.

The group of Slytherins stood separate from the rest of their peers, not associating with any others. Still, perhaps the discord amongst the Quidditch team extended deeper than he had guessed, hence their presence. Some of the more rowdy amongst the pack of students present attempted to pick fights until some of the more open minded, or a member of Harry's DA, silenced them with warnings, threats, or a Silencing Charm.

"That's a lot of people," Harry observed quietly to Hermione and Padma, a little surprised.

"Everyone believes you now, remember," Padma chided gently. "This is the kind of turnout you should have gotten last year."

"Padma's right," Hermione concurred, scanning the room, taking note of who was and wasn't in attendance. "Especially with the attacks on the rise, people are afraid. They'll want to learn to defend themselves."

"More than what Snape teaches, at any rate," Neville added, stepping up beside the three of them at the front of the room.

Neville faced Harry. "None of the Slytherins here are with Malfoy, or so I'm told."

"Doesn't matter," Harry waved off the concern abruptly. "What can he do? This isn't illegal any more."

"Suppose not," conceded Neville with a small nod of his head. "Ron is also here, and Cho and Marietta as well." Neville added, inclining his head in the direction of the redhead in question, standing near Dean and Seamus but not speaking with them, and his former crush and her best friend, the previous DA's betrayer. Harry followed the initial gesture and the former friends locked eyes with one another for a lingering moment. At the same time, they blinked and looked away. An unspoken understanding, a truce, was formed. They would do their job and not let their past problems interfere.

Harry spotted Cho watching him intently and gave her a gentle smile, which she returned. Though they had not truly spoken since the apologies to one another, when they did speak in passing, it was polite and… not forced, but not comfortable either.

Next to the beautiful young Asian woman was her friend Marietta. The smile left Harry's face as he focused on her. The girl appeared to sense his attentions and briefly caught his eye. She broke off almost immediately. He had not quite forgiven her for betraying them to Umbridge, and perhaps might never, though he may forget as time passed.

"I expected this," Harry said softly.

"Just making sure," Neville said with a small smile. He then grinned further at Hermione and Padma. "Shall we get the good ole' Chosen One to start teaching this lot to defend themselves now?"

"Let's," responded Padma. "Come on, Harry. Let's start this already."

Harry, ignoring the jab at his press name, stepped forward at Padma's gentle nudge in the back, the movement immediately drawing the attention of the crowd. It was only a few more seconds before he had complete silence. Even the Slytherins were awaiting his words tentatively from the back of the simple circular room.

"Hello everyone," Harry opened, speaking loudly to ensure the vast crowd could hear him. "As you are no doubt aware, I have chosen to continue the group known as Dumbledore's Army that began last year. The purpose of this group is to learn to defend yourselves from an attack. This is what we attempted last year, before we were forced to shut down."

Marietta ducked her head and made to move away, but Cho put a stop to her. Harry ignored the motion – it was a simple truth, not meant to be anything more when he had spoken – and took a deep breath, growing serious.

"If you do not wish to be here, then leave. This will _not_ be a fun class to gossip in and work when it pleases you. This _will_ be difficult, this _will_ be tiring, and this _will_ be painful. If you don't have either the desire or the drive to learn at the pace I set or have any misconceptions of what this is, leave now. We have not much time to learn quite a lot. I will expect you all to keep up, and to work outside here if you can't or if you want to refine your ability."

Harry and Hermione had decided this the previous evening. They had already missed half a year of possible lessons, and as a result, they had to move at an accelerated pace to cover as much as possible. If the group could not keep up or chose to only practice here, it was their loss. He would move on to the next spell as soon as he figured they'd spent enough time learning one.

After his ardent speech, nobody had made a move to leave. A small group of first, second and third years appeared to be intimidated by the seriousness of their idol, a large number exchanged whispered words with their neighbors, and a small number, including the Slytherins, maintained their focus completely on Harry, unfazed or unworried at the prospect of a difficult time.

Harry waited another minute. When nobody chose to leave, he continued.

"Good. Split into your year groups," Harry ordered, taking charge instantly. "These are the people you will be working with while you are here. I don't care if you have personality issues with each other, or you just dislike someone because they are in a different House. Save your problems for outside of here. When you're in here, there is one focus, and that is to learn what I'm teaching you. Everything else is left at the door."

Harry scanned the room again, registering the various emotions amongst his peers and juniors. More than half had already completely accepted his terms and were ready to work. The rest would follow soon enough.

_Great, this may just work out fine after all._

"Well? Get a move on everyone," Harry said impatiently, gesturing for them to move. "We've got a lot to cover."

In excess of one hundred and fifty students moved into action without any further delay. Harry watched in amusement as the groups slowly formed, not without numerous collisions and poor coordination – at one point there were four separate sixth year groups.

"A little overzealous perhaps in delivery, but it was effective," Hermione reviewed positively, stepping up beside him. She had her own smile on her face as he watched Susan, Hannah, and Luna attempt to sort out their year groups. The poor fifth years that were following Luna's lead were quite uncomfortable about it. The conspiracy theories she was beginning to share didn't lessen said feelings.

"It got the desired result," Padma responded. "I don't think we'll have many inter-house disputes while we're here."

A shape started to emerge as time went by. The groups sorted themselves out. Amongst the groups containing Slytherins, there were a number of doubtful and distrustful glances, but words exchanged were kept to a minimum.

Many choices had been made to lead up to this moment, and not only Harry's. The choice for the Slytherins to associate with the greatest enemy of the Dark Lord, who many in their house supported, was an immense one. For all those choices that led people here, this was merely the first consequence of many to come.

At last the groups sorted themselves out. Harry stepped forward again. He was strangely proud that this many fellow students had come and, despite his warnings of difficulties, chose to remain.

"Alright everyone," he began seriously. "Today we'll begin by learning…"

-x-x-x-x-x-

"_Open._"

Harry stood up and stepped back as the set of sinks began to move and open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. The remainder of the group was standing behind him, watching in awe at the sight before them. They were witnessing the entrance appear to a legendary location in the castle walls, one only a few people could enter.

"Get out of here," Myrtle screamed. She was given only several irritated looks in response.

"Let's go," Harry said as the opening appeared, without the slightest glance in the ghost's direction. He was done being nice to her.

Harry took a step forward, took a breath and jumped.

"I hope he dies," Myrtle whispered scathingly.

"Enough of you, already," growled Neville. Myrtle floated over to him and squinted into a glare from right before him. Any other year he'd have backed away, but he stood his ground.

"Just leave her alone," Daphne said coldly, stepping forward to the edge of the hole in the floor. "Are we doing this or not?" And with that, she jumped down.

The remainder followed suit, and soon the entire group was gathered at the entrance to the central chamber.

"This is it," Harry whispered. Then, in parseltongue, "_Open._"

With several loud creaks, the massive, snake encrusted door opened and revealed a sight that took their breath away.

"I don't understand…" Susan said, stepping through the door and looking around. "Where is it?"

"It was right there in the memory…" added Neville. He turned to Harry, who was staring, shocked, at the base of the statue of Salazar Slytherin on the other side of the chamber.

"It's gone," Harry stated blankly. "How?"

"But, Basilisk's are supposed to take _years_ to decompose," Hermione was in a similar state of shock. She'd been told by her books that decomposition took dozens of years, if not more.

The group wandered forth slowly, examining the immediate area.

"There's not a trace of any Basilisk remains being here." Neville observed. "Only the skin we passed on the way in."

"And it isn't still alive; otherwise it would've attacked by now, surely." Padma added, viewing the chamber in wonderment as well as confusion.

"No, Tom Riddle said it wouldn't come unless it was called," Harry reminded them. "And I know I killed it." He looked into the lifeless eyes of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. "That leaves one option."

"What would that be?" asked Ernie. All eyes turned to Harry.

Harry continued to stare into the eyes of the statue. Salazar Slytherin created the Chamber so that only he could have access. His unique ability was the ability to speak to serpents. Thus, only speakers of the serpent tongue could enter. That meant one thing and one thing alone.

"There's another Parselmouth at Hogwarts."

-x-x-x-x-x-

**A/N: **I kept the bathroom scene similar for a good reason. It will take some time for to reveal the reason for a lot of odd actions, but I think it will be worth it.

I know someone must have done a second Parselmouth before, but I haven't come across it. I hope to make this far less cliché and idiotic as it may have been interpreted by another.

Spell Incantations

Congelatus: become frozen – what Harry used in the bathroom.


	19. Family

A/N: So, yeah. A lot happened. Lost my motivation, and then slowly regained it. No promises on any kind of regular updates.

During the break, I fixed up the story a bit. Hate the Ron/Ginny hate I have, but it's a part of the story now. There aren't as many chapters as there once was, so hopefully that doesn't screw people over with the reviews. If it does, whoops. But it was overly wordy before (not that it isn't still).

This took me a long, long time to write. The first two scenes were written in '08, but the rest I struggled with then, kept hitting walls, and mostly wrote this year. I'm not happy with it now, nor have I ever been, with this or any of the other dozen versions. For what I want to later have happen, this stuff had to come now, at Hogwarts. Keeping this chapter to myself any longer was not going to help me solve my issues with it, so here we go. Hopefully it doesn't seem as if I'm too out of touch with writing, as I feel that way.

Thanks to pureb99 and Master Slytherin for their assistance with the Ministry letter. Thanks to Voice of the Nephilim, ParseltonguePhoenix, Rob and BennyS for their assistance and comments. Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed in the three years since my last update. I responded to few, but you all made me persist with (re)plotting and (re)planning this fic.

_**Chapter 19: Family**_

"How can that be?"

Ernie's voice disrupted the almost silence that had enveloped the scene. The sounds of dripping water could be heard around the Chamber. But it was Harry everyone's attention was focused on.

"As I understand it, this chamber was made as a place for Salazar Slytherin to keep private from the other Founders." Harry began. He turned away from the statue of said man and faced the rest of the group. Their expressions varied from worried to curious to ambivalence. "Only a Parselmouth could gain access. Since I didn't do this, and Voldemort doesn't have access to the castle, that means only another person – one who can speak Parseltongue – could have done this."

"Can we be certain that he didn't do this himself? That he doesn't have a way in?" asked a worried Susan. She and Hannah wore similar expressions.

"The castle's protections, Dumbledore, something, surely, would have to have reacted or known about a Voldemort entering the grounds now that he has a body." Harry replied with more confidence than he currently felt. If Voldemort could sneak in, then... "Either way, that does leave us with the question: who else is there?"

"Someone in Slytherin probably –"

"Jumping to conclusions, are we?" Daphne interrupted. "That ability alone isn't enough to define someone in a House."

"She's right, Hannah." Harry intervened as Hannah appeared to want to take the point further. "I am living proof of a Parselmouth in another House."

Hannah closed her mouth and looked away. A moment passed wherein only the constant drip-drip could be heard.

Harry shook his head and continued on. "It stands to reason there would be other Parselmouths around the world, and we are likely to have others who have kept it a secret here in the UK, especially if they grew up in the wizarding world. More so after the reaction I got."

"Where does this leave us then?" asked Padma, and Harry could sense the uncertainty she felt. This was something she didn't have a solution for.

"We need to find an alternative approach to destroying Horcruxes." Hermione replied. Then, gesturing at the absence of the Basilisk, "And, if we can, find out who did this and why."

It was left unspoken how monumentally difficult that task would be. Every person in the castle was a potential suspect.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A week passed with time seeming to fly by. Assignments were piling on for the fourth and above years, and even the younger years were beginning to feel additional pressure on their comparatively meagre workloads.

Apparition lessons, which had begun in mid-January to the noticeable excitement of the sixth and younger seventh years, were progressing well. Having already passed his test, Harry spent his time studying. Except for Luna, the rest of the DA participated to various levels of success. Hermione, Padma and Daphne were all pleased to have accomplished their first Apparation by the close of their third lesson.

The first several meetings of the school-wide DA progressed with barely a hitch. Younger students were already falling behind despite valiantly attempting to keep with the rapid pace Harry set. Neville had been reluctantly assigned to watch over them and teach at a speed more suited to them. He was proving capable enough for the task. Though he'd started off reluctantly, his confidence had grown as both Harry and the students under him both approved of and obeyed him after proving that he was becoming a very capable wizard. That, of course, involved Neville taking on some of the more cocky students in a duel. Needless to say, Neville won.

A number of students had proven to be exceptionally hard-working, and a few of them came as a great surprise. Lavender, Dean and Seamus – the three that had initially approached Harry – were amongst the less surprising. Their worth ethic was vastly different than Harry had ever seen from them in any of their classes. However, as they were the initiators he had expected it. It still pleased Harry to no end to see them not only keeping pace with the material, but mastering the tasks more than adequately, this coming from some of the generally less enthusiastic of students.

Ron, conversely, was a surprising hard worker. He had kept his head down and mouth shut, opting to concentrating on performing to the required standard, or one he had perhaps set for himself. He was amongst the top performers, in fact. Others, such as Cho Chang, Megan Jones, and a number of fourth years were also amongst the best performing students. All in all, very few were failing to keep up. That was a positive sign if there ever was one.

However, Harry found himself with little time to pursue the mystery of who was the other Parselmouth in the castle. Harry checked the Marauder's Map on many occasions only to find nobody entering or leaving Myrtle's bathroom, nor Malfoy near the Room of Requirement. Although he didn't expect the culprit to return to the scene, Harry was still a little disappointed. He could only ponder the motives of whoever the person was to remove the remains of the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets. Was it for the money, to foil him, or the Basilisk venom? Perhaps it was something else entirely.

Malfoy had been released from the Hospital Wing looking considerably better than he had the last time Harry had seen him, covered in blood, dying on the floor of Myrtle's bathroom. He was very quiet and withdrawn, his complexion paler than ever. For the first few days, he had barely spoken a word in classes or at meals, his mind clearly in another place. Given how the latest attempt to discover what Malfoy had been up to had gone so poorly, Harry was not as enthusiastic or frustrated as he had been before their duel. The only positive that Harry could honestly say that came from that day was that he had stalled Malfoy further. It wasn't much, but then again, with how it went, he had little to be joyous about.

Valentine's Day had come and gone with no dramatic affairs this year. Romilda Vane had attempted to offer Harry some more treats, but, suspicious of her motives, he examined the gift and found them laced with substances designed to enthral him. This time he was less than polite in his rebuttal. His tolerance for attempts to gain his attention had taken a severe blow after Ginny. She had appeared hurt at his rebuke. Harry couldn't find it within him to care.

But it was the dinner of the sixteenth that brought the next challenge.

It was an average evening in the Great Hall. Students were loudly discussing their days, plans for the future, wizarding pop-culture and the dramas of this year's Valentine's Day. Harry was seated with his group – minus Daphne – at the centre of the Gryffindor table. Curiously, after the now daily occurrence, a few of the younger students had begun sitting with house-tables other than their own. It was accepted amongst the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. However, when the first, and only, student – a mere first year – attempted to sit at the Slytherin table, the poor kid had been subjected to a variety of insults and not-so-harmless pranks the entire meal from the older students. He never tried again.

"-see Corner and Goldstein nearly knock each other out?" Hannah was saying animatedly to the group. "That never happened when we were learning Banishment Charms that way."

Harry grimaced as he recalled the near simultaneously hits to the head the two Ravenclaws suffered due to their poor aim. They weren't the first two hurt themselves while practicing spells, and they wouldn't be the last.

"I finally can get them back for that time in Charms when we were learning Summoning Charm," continued Hannah with almost childish glee. "This is going to be great!"

She was in a very good mood having also successfully shown up Mandy Brocklehurst, much to the latter's displeasure. There were many rivalries among the student populace, Harry was discovering, beyond his and Malfoys.

Harry just smiled at her enthusiasm and kept eating instead of responding. He was pretty satisfied himself. Something, though, was off. He couldn't place it, couldn't understand it. He had a rough night's sleep. He was kept on the edge of sleep for so hours, his mind unwilling to shut down. He remembered a vicious headache.

His musings were distracted when a screech echoed in the hall.

"Well, I never!" Nearly-Headless Nick's exclamation followed the screech. Harry spotted the ghost at the entrance with several other ghosts and gathered the owl must've flown straight through him.

A brown owl with a black streak across its legs flew into the Great Hall, drawing the attention of a number of students. The owl spotted its target, and made its way to them. It just happened that the owl was headed towards Harry.

He wondered what could possibly have earned him the attentions of someone outside of Hogwarts this time. There had been no response about Malfoy and their fight, true to Dumbledore's words. He tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever he was about to learn.

But the owl didn't land in front of Harry. The owl landed in front of Hannah.

The girl started, not expecting either the letter to be for her or the graceless landing of the owl in her food. Some of her soup spilt onto the table making a mess.

"What is it?" asked Susan, the question on many students' minds.

Hannah, perplexed, reached out to remove the letter. Then she gasped and drew back away from it, as if burned.

"What is it?" asked Hermione tentatively. Hannah, however, had not heard. She was sitting stock still, staring at the envelope.

Those within eyesight looked from her to the envelope, and those that could see it hushed immediately.

It was black.

"Oh, Merlin, no, no, no," started Susan, her eyes widening in shock at the sight. "It can't be. It must be a mistake, Hannah."

Perhaps for the first time, Harry needn't anyone to explain to him the significance of the black envelope. He had seen many of these over the past couple of months. Most students that received them were immediately shepherded out of the Great Hall and only a few of them had been still at Hogwarts the following day.

The envelope signalled a death. The death of a family member.

"Miss Abbot, I think it would be best if you come with me," advised Professor Sprout who had approached their table unseen. The entire hall, like on each occasion before, had fallen silent. As nice as it would have been to the person involved, it wasn't out of respect, but out of curiosity as to what had happened.

Hannah had yet to move. She kept her eyes on the envelope. It was like a train wreck; she didn't want to see it yet she couldn't take her eyes away from it.

"Hannah," whispered Susan worriedly, giving her a gentle nudge. "Hannah?"

The girl swallowed. She reached forward and hesitantly untied the envelope. Her hands fumbled several times and the owl gave an irritated hoot.

Once removed, her hesitancy suddenly appeared to vanish, for Hannah opened the envelope with fervour. There was a single piece of parchment inside.

Hannah's eyes dashed across the page, watering as she went. Susan watched on helplessly. The rest of the group, and much of the Hall, were silent.

She put down the letter and got up abruptly, scaring more than a few of her neighbours. Sprout stepped forward and gently rested a consoling arm on her shoulder. That however only made matters worse. Hannah let out a sob and quickly ran out of the hall. Susan was on her feet an instant later, prepared to go after her, when Sprout motioned for her to halt.

"Let her go for a minute, Miss Bones." Sprout informed her quietly. "Then I'm certain your presence will be of great help."

Susan nodded, displeased, torn, but ultimately agreeable, and slowly retook her seat. Sprout, after exchanging a silent message with the Head Table, left the Great Hall, evidently in search of Hannah to offer whatever comfort could be given.

Harry, who had been speechless for the entire event, licked his lips and tentatively asked, "What does it say?"

Susan picked up the letter and read it quickly. Tears welled in her eyes as she went on. Once she had finished, the letter was thrust into his hands from across the table, before Susan stood up again and left the hall quickly.

Harry, with Hermione and Neville leaning over his shoulder, decided to read the letter before following after the two girls.

_To Miss Hannah Abbot, _

_It is the unfortunate duty of the Ministry of Magic to inform you of the death of your father and mother on the 16th March, 1996. A ministry sponsored mind-healer will be available to you free of charge at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries during the next forty eight hours. _

_Please contact Gringotts London to inquire about the reading of Alfred Abbot and Miranda Abbot's last will and testament._

_Hope you are well, _

_Margaret Boland _

_Department of Public Relations_

_Ministry of Magic_

"Merlin…" exclaimed Neville quietly. "They're both…" he trailed off.

"Yeah," Harry said, swallowing. The letter was removed from his hands by Padma, who read it quickly, and then passed it on to Su, her eyes filled with emotion.

Hermione leant forward beside Harry and whispered. "The letter... It's so… I can't even think of an adequate adjective."

"Generic." Padma offered bluntly. "Impersonal."

"Well, yes."

The note was passed on to the others.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked Ernie, once he had read it.

"What _can_ we do?" Harry replied, staring off into space, contemplating and not thinking at the same time. Conversation between them ended there.

Around them, talk slowly resumed, but with a subdued atmosphere. The group around where Hannah had been sitting remained sombre and silent for the remainder of the meal. Shortly afterward, the group split in the Entrance Hall. Harry chose to find Susan and Hannah and see how they were. The rest returned to their dorms.

Harry withdrew the Marauder's Map, which was always on him, and noted Susan Bones was standing outside the doors to the castle. Hannah was in one of the greenhouses. Sprout was in the one next door, probably keeping an eye on her charge but not bothering her.

Exiting the castle, Harry met with Susan. Her pretty face was saddened, almost on the verge of tears.

"I can't believe this."

"Should we go and see her?" asked Harry. Susan seemed to debate the answer for a long time.

"I know Hannah, Harry." Susan said firmly. "She would want the company."

"If you're sure…" he began, but left it that. Susan was Hannah's best friend. She had a better chance of knowing what she wanted or needed than anyone else.

Harry packed away the map and two made their way out into the grounds, passing students leaving from dinner who were chatting animatedly again. The topics weren't pleasant, however.

"Another one –"

"Who's going to be next?"

"Glad my parents are in Germany for the year…"

Harry and Susan heard more snippets of conversation as they passed, none of it raising their spirits. The cold chill of the night air brushed what exposed skin there was, causing goosebumps the instant they left the shadow of the castle walls. Wrapping themselves deeper into their clothing, they walked down the stairs and began the trudge through the fields to the greenhouses.

"How long have you two known each other?" asked Harry as they made their way through the grounds. He was curious. What were their lives like before Hogwarts? And in general - did wizard children have pre-schools or were they simply home-schooled? Was there even any education before Hogwarts beyond basic literacy?

"Ever since we were six." Susan replied. Her tone was a mixture of sadness and happiness as she switched her focus from present to past.

"Can you tell me about it?" continued Harry, again hesitantly. If nothing else, he hoped it would ease Susan's mind a little.

"Of course," responded Susan immediately. While she was not acting like her normal cheerful self, she did seem to perk up at the interest in their friendship, or perhaps the happier memories she was recalling. Either way it was an improvement, and an improvement was an improvement.

"You know that Auntie was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, right?" Susan asked, and Harry nodded his confirmation. As he was in front, Susan saw the motion and continued. "Every year, there were several Ministry Balls that she was forced to attend since she was head of a department." She paused, smiling to herself at a particular recollection where Amelia Bones had not-so-politely proclaimed how much she detested the events to herself while dressing for one.

"I was six at the time; it was a week before Christmas at that Ministry Ball when Hannah's…" Susan paused a second time, heart wrenching at the thought that she would never speak with the woman again. "Hannah's mother was attending this one. I don't remember how she got an invite; she wasn't an employee of the Ministry at the time. Anyway, Hannah was with her, and Auntie and Hannah's mother started talking. The two of us were the only ones our age and we… we just talked."

Harry nodded a second time, marvelling at how different their lives were. At that time, he would have been either locked in his cupboard or cleaning up the garden to make it _presentable_ for the Christmas photos the Dursleys took each year.

"We were kids, two girls in a room full of adults; it was hard not to get along." Susan continued almost wistfully. She reached a crest in the path and turned to face Harry, who stopped beside her, examining her features. "It was another year before we saw each other again, but when we did, I think we were both more pleased to see each other than we expected. Auntie and Hannah's mother organized get-togethers after seeing how happy we were together. From then, Hannah's been the closest friend I've had and probably ever will."

The two shared a comfortable silence before turning to face the Greenhouses in front of them. The wind blew and Harry resisted the urge to shiver. Susan held a hand to her head to keep her hair from blowing about.

"Hannah and I saw each other a couple of times a month from that second time onwards until we were nine when our pre-Hogwarts lessons began. Then we saw each other almost daily."

"Pre-Hogwarts lessons?" asked Harry, his brow furrowed.

Susan stared at Harry for a moment before she shook her head. "There wasn't anything that we didn't learn in our first year or wouldn't have picked up along the way," she explained as she started walking again. Harry fell into step beside her. "We learnt about common wizarding history, about wands, their significance. We learnt about magic and the distinguishing features of each type – offensive, defensive, healing, Dark, transfiguration and charms. This was all done at a basic level so that we would understand it back then. Most wizarding children have some variation of teachings before Hogwarts."

_Another __something __I __missed __out __on__…_ Harry wondered again what his life would've been like had he been raised in the wizarding world.

"There's not much more to say." Susan said in a darker tone. "We would sleep over at each other's houses, talk about anything and everything. We were together when we received our Hogwarts admission letters, and again when we travelled to Diagon Alley before our first year. Being in Hufflepuff together only cemented our friendship for our time at Hogwarts."

Susan slowed her pace a little and stared at her feet as she walked. "I don't know what I'd do without her…" slowed to a stop. "I'm sure she feels the same. Especially now, after the past year."

Harry didn't need to be particularly observant to realize Susan was heading into a mental funk and laid a comforting arm around her. She stepped in closer to Harry and hugged him tightly. She shook slightly. The pair stood motionless for a long moment.

"Her parents were two of those people in the world who didn't judge anyone." Susan whispered as she stepped back and dabbed at her eyes. "They were the nicest people I had ever met. Even when Hannah and I messed up they were understanding, forgiving, while still chastising and reprimanding us like a parent should." She turned to face the greenhouse Hannah was in, though the plants inside obstructed their view inside.

"Hannah once told me that she was worried her parents didn't love each other anymore," she said almost inaudibly. "And that they were extra nice to us because of it… She said there were times when they didn't speak to each other for days at a time, and she was certain they fought but she never heard an argument. I never gave it much thought. I mean, they looked happy to me. But what if it were true? Merlin, what must be going on in Hannah's head?"

Harry continued to remain silent. He wasn't sure how to respond even if he didn't feel it was best to let Susan talk. Their childhoods sounded so different, yet it wasn't perfect – Susan had lost her parents, and perhaps Hannah's parents weren't happy in their marriage. Was there even the perfect family, or were they all deeply flawed?

The questions Harry asked himself hit close to home. For the longest time he wished for some long lost relative to come and whisk him away from his life at the Dursleys. When he finally did find the slimmest promise of family in Sirius Black, his chance was taken away within hours, Sirius having to turn to a life on the run. He had never had anything resembling a happy, perfect family. Was that still what we wanted…? He couldn't give an honest answer to that.

Susan turned and determinedly made her way to the greenhouse door. Her hand was rested on the knob when Harry drew up beside her. She faced him once, her features resolute, composed, and opened the door.

The smell was the first thing Harry noticed, closely followed by the temperature as he stepped inside. Like all of the Hogwarts greenhouses, this one was rich with the smell of dragon dung fertilizer. Mixed in with it were a variety of exotic smells from an equal variety of flora. The greenhouse was also considerably warmer than the outside temperature and Harry quickly grew uncomfortable in his warm clothing. He took off his winter robes, and he saw Susan do the same. The pair lay their robes down on a spare table and shut the door behind them. The humid air was still enough to cause their breathing to heavy.

This greenhouse was one of the largest ones. There were five rows of garden beds separated at twenty meter intervals, three times. Plants of different sizes and colours were growing in their magical splendour throughout the structure.

"Where is she?" asked Susan quietly. She was looking up and down the aisles with Harry trailing behind her. He had never understood Neville's interest in Herbology but he did have to admit that some of the plants were strangely beautiful.

A patch of soil-free plants caught Harry's eye. He turned away from Susan, who was walking to the other end of the greenhouse, and examined a small card with a picture of a familiar plant in front of the garden bed. Although he knew very little of the plant life in this greenhouse – used predominantly for seventh year students – he recognized the name of the absent shoot.

**Chervil**

_(Anthriscus cerefolium)_

What purpose would someone have to steal chervil, let alone from Hogwarts, one of the most secure areas in Wizarding Britain? Even if it was the sole supplier of the magical variety – it wasn't entirely uncommon for common plants to have magical properties that were only cultivated using certain fertilisers and soils – in England, what purpose would acquiring chervil have? Harry re-examined the card, noting the underlined piece of text at the bottom.

_Medicinal use: burns, bad dreams, stomach ailments._

_Burns?_ Harry repeated to himself. _The __only __person __I __know __who __needs __to __worry __about __burns __would __be__…_ Harry could've kicked himself. How had he missed this before? _Bellatrix__Lestrange._ The mentally unstable right-hand ma-_wo_man of Voldemort had been burnt devastatingly in their last encounter, courtesy of the temperament of one French witch.

That meant two, of which Harry knew about, events in the past two months that likely had connections to Voldemort. He had no hard evidence whatsoever, all of it circumstantial, but his mind was beyond that step. It was down to an instinctual level, and Harry's instincts told him that these two events were related to _him_. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had somehow managed to steal the chervil from this greenhouse and remove the carcass of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets without anyone's notice.

Harry was confident that Dumbledore would be aware if a Death Eater had gained access to Hogwarts – _that __isn__'__t __Draco __Malfoy_, he added as an afterthought. Putting what faith he had left in the Headmaster, Harry considered the other options. It was unlikely that there were two separate individuals involved, and that meant the second Parselmouth was also the one responsible for the theft of the chervil. But who could it be? And how could he find _one_ Parselmouth in a castle filled with several _hundred_ people?

His thoughts were disrupted from pursuing that line of internal inquiry by a call of his name from the other side of the greenhouse. Giving the bare patch of soil one last glance, he stepped between the garden beds until he saw the tell-tale sign of Susan Bones – her plaited strawberry blonde hair – down one of the aisles. She was kneeling with an arm around the form of her best friend. Hannah was sitting with her head in her hands with her legs bent in front of her. He could barely hear their whispered words.

"…you mean?" Susan was asking. Her body was tense.

"No." Hannah's reply was surprisingly harsh in its quietness. "I don't want to."

"I don't understand."

"Why do _you_ think this happened?"

"What do you…?" Susan trailed off as she began to understand. Then, outraged, said, "Hannah, how could you think that?"

Hannah raised her head enough to stare at her friend in the eye. Harry was too far away to see her clearly in the half-light underneath a raised garden bed. However, he noticed that Hannah didn't detect his presence. He continued to eavesdrop, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"My parents are dead because I'm friends with _him_." Hannah hissed.

Susan hesitated a moment at the venom in her friends tone. "Hannah, you don't seriously believe that do you? This is... Vol-Voldemort's fault! Not Harry's!"

"They wouldn't have been a target –"

"Yes, they would have!" Susan half-yelled. Suddenly, it seemed Susan wasn't composed anymore. "You're a half-blood, Hannah! Your mother was a Muggle! You _know_what that means to _him_."

Harry from his eavesdropping position noticed Hannah's fists clench. Through the raw anger in her response, her anguish was evident.

"Don't talk about her in the past tense!"

Susan was speechless for a long moment before slumping down next to Hannah. She put an arm around her. "I'm sorry, Hannah. I didn't mean to yell at you. I loved her, too."

Harry heard a sob and his discomfit at eavesdropping tripled immediately. Why did he keep ending up where he shouldn't, good intentions or not?

He was about to leave when he saw Susan looking up at him. The grief and pain on her face was clear, and Harry gestured his intent to leave the two alone. However, he paused when he saw Hannah look up to see where her friends' attention had gone.

The look Hannah gave him was anything but pleasant.

"This is your fault."

It wasn't said loudly, but every syllable hit Harry like a sucker punch to the stomach.

"Hannah!" Susan hissed.

Hannah shrugged away Susan's hand. "Are you going to side with _him_? After all we've been through? After we took you in?"

The look of hurt on Susan's face did not dissuade Hannah in the least. The two locked eyes for a long moment, until Susan turned to Harry and said apologetically, "Maybe it'd be better if you left."

Harry nodded and turned away, not trusting his voice to not betray the bitterness he felt. He'd done nothing wrong, right? He'd told them the risks, many times. They said they knew. Perhaps this was a case of hearing of and experiencing being entirely separate from each other.

Nevertheless, Harry couldn't resist falling into a foul mood. He recovered his robe and left the two girls in the greenhouse. Professor Sprout was waiting for him.

"How is Miss Abbot?"

Harry told her the truth. "Not well."

Sprout frowned and dismissed him. Harry began trudging his way back to the castle feeling worse than he had since Ron and Ginny's betrayal.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"She's lashing out at you, Harry, because of your connection to Voldemort. Give her time. Hannah will realise this isn't your fault soon enough, I know it."

Hermione watched Harry pace the empty classroom with concern. Harry's reaction when it came to deaths around him was obvious; he blamed himself. But there was truly nothing he could've done to stop Voldemort's attack on the Abbott family home. Surely he knew this deep down.

The sounds of Harry's feet shuffling suddenly ceased. "Do you remember our conversation after you were kidnapped, Hermione? We spoke about the families of the group. That they'd be a target. That we'd try to find ways to protect them."

The look on Hermione's face told Harry she did remember.

"We failed."

"Come here, Harry." Hermione said softly. Harry hesitated a moment and then complied, closing the distance.

Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment, Harry returned the embrace. It was still a little weird, after what happened, but it was getting easier, more comfortable and natural.

Then, she spoke. "Voldemort's plans are a complete mystery to us. There was no way we could predict if or when he'll attack anyone or anything. What protections could we come up with that most families wouldn't have already? We aren't geniuses, Harry. We're teenagers."

Despite recognising the validity of her point, Harry remained despondent. Hermione tightened her embrace for a moment and then released him, looking him in the eyes.

"We can do better next time," Hermione said assuredly. "Everyone makes mistakes, Harry. The best people learn from them."

Harry mulled over those words for the remainder of the night. She was right, as usual. He didn't know enough about defences and protections to justifiably advise or criticise any. There was nothing he could've done. In the future he could do better.

Yet, Hannah's blaming him still hurt.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Susan and Hannah weren't present at meals for the following few days. Ernie informed the rest of the group that she'd not emerged from her dorm, with Susan staying by her side except to bring meals to Hannah and to provide updates for him. Three students, two of them Hufflepuffs, unenrolled from Hogwarts and left the day after Hannah received the news.

Two days after, the next DA meeting was held. A sombre atmosphere prevailed with the noticeable absence of the liveliest two in their group.

On the third day, Hannah made an appearance at breakfast. Her eyes were red with obvious dark lines beneath them. However, she determinedly avoided the stares and whispering and sat at the Hufflepuff table. Susan, mostly unseen, sat beside her, looking equally sleep deprived but defiant, challenging the starers to comment.

Harry kept an eye on the pair during the meal, once catching Susan's eye and receiving a half smile. Hannah never looked in his direction.

While trekking his way to his first lesson of the day, a familiar voice called out his name. The voice belonged to Susan. She looked out of breath, as if she'd chased after him from the Great Hall. Harry excused himself from Hermione and Neville and apprehensively greeted her.

"I wanted to catch you and apologise," said Susan. "You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry for dragging you along and then asking you to leave like that."

"It's okay." Harry replied, and then shook his head. "You did nothing wrong. Shouldn't have been there in the first place."

Susan was visibly relieved. "Thanks for understanding. And I'm sorry about what Hannah said. I know she doesn't mean it. Under different circumstances, I know she'd have been appreciative that you came to see if she was alright."

That was a statement Harry was more reticent towards responding. Hermione and Susan's assurances notwithstanding, it wasn't easy to hear from someone you considered a friend, who'd even flirted with you on occasion, that you were responsible for the death of their parents. He couldn't simply forget that, could he?

Something must have shown on his face, for Susan's expression turned crestfallen.

Harry gathered his thoughts and then spoke. "It's alright, Susan. It hurt is all, hearing her say that. I know she didn't mean it, but..."

"... I understand." Susan turned aside and became thoughtful. "When she accused me... I hadn't felt that bad since Auntie... I don't want to feel that ever again."

There wasn't much Harry could think to say to that. Silence reigned.

When she spoke next, Susan's voice was tight with emotion. "Hannah's parents were truly good people. I can't believe they're gone. Now she's my only family, Harry. The only one left."

The voices of fellow students on approach reached their ears.

"I made a promise to you, Harry," began Susan, "that I would help you to the best of my abilities. That hasn't changed."

Despite the circumstances, her loyalty lifted his spirits. It still surprised him the amount of loyalty he'd inspired from people he'd hardly known until five months ago.

But then Susan made one more statement.

"Hannah might not feel the same."

A group of Ravenclaws appeared around a corner, heading in their direction. Their appearance and presence quashed any thought of a response from Harry, and Susan took that moment to quickly depart. He stood there for several minutes wondering what exactly she'd meant.

-x-x-x-x-x-

In spite of the recent tragedies and gradual decrease in student population, the general atmosphere in the castle remained fairly normal. The school-wide DA classes were often the most active and cheerful times for the majority of the school. For Harry, it was tainted by the absence of Susan and Hannah. Hermione and Padma spent large portions of the meetings keeping him distracted. It helped prevent Harry dwelling on either of them.

Ron, of all people, asked how Hannah was faring, knowing Harry had become friends with her. Lacking a proper response, that conversation had been filled with awkward pauses and complex feelings. Some things were too challenging to overcome so quickly, no matter how strong the previous friendship. The betrayal was still far too fresh and it was to be a long, long time before any trust could return. Harry had to admit, however, awkward half-conversations were more enjoyable than ignoring each other.

But all the good will from the meetings had to be disrupted eventually.

One evening a week after Hannah's letter, while sitting with Hermione in the common room, the portrait opened to permit a decidedly angry Parvati through. Without giving the room a momentarily glance, she stormed passed a pair of unlucky second years who barely sidestepped out of the way before she barrelled right over them.

"What was that about? I've never seen 'er like that."

Harry turned to see Seamus, Dean and Neville standing beside the desk Harry was sharing with Hermione. Seamus, the one who'd spoken, was looking over at the female dorm steps which Parvati had just disappeared up.

Turning back to his year mates, he said, "Your guess is as good as mine."

A moment later the portrait opened again and Lavender stepped through. She was panting with exertion and looking deeply concerned. It appeared she'd chased after the furious Parvati.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione, whom was mostly preoccupied with an essay for Professor McGonagall. Nevertheless, she'd witnessed both entrances too.

"You should talk to Lavender, Harry." Hermione said, pointing at the blonde woman with her quill. "Quick, before she goes up after Parvati."

He sighed. Getting in the middle of Parvati and Lavender is the last thing he wanted after the disastrous attempt to help Hannah. Nevertheless, he couldn't let it go after Padma and Lavender had independently spoken with him over the subject.

Dean, Seamus and Neville gave Harry expectant looks as he stood. "I think I might know," was all he said.

Harry quickly intercepted Lavender before she could make it to the stairs. Up close, one could see the redness around her eyes.

"You might be better off leaving her alone to calm down."

Lavender looked up in the general direction of where Parvati was and resisted the urge to push past. Harry had never seen her look so troubled before, even during their last conversation. Eventually, she looked back to Harry and he forced a smile.

"Can we talk?" she asked softly.

Harry nodded and led her up to his dorm; it was the only nearby place he figured would be empty. The room was its standard mess around Ron, Dean and Seamus' beds. Neville and Harry were much neater.

The blonde scrunched her nose in distaste at the sight of the mess. Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he led her over to his bed and leaned against one of the posts, facing his companion.

"I've never been up here before." Lavender remarked. Her eyes roamed the room until she hit Harry's section of the room. She raised an eyebrow at the comparative cleanliness. Then, Lavender gave him a smile, one not quite as dazzling as usual.

"You have me all alone in your room. Whatever would people say if they knew?"

Harry gave her a disgruntled look. She continued to smile, perhaps a little weaker than before. Whatever had happened, it was haunting Lavender. Normally she'd make him embarrassed within thirty seconds, but this time... She wasn't herself.

"What happened?" he asked pointedly. "Did you two argue?"

Lavender, with great reluctance, nodded.

"What about?"

"Padma, of course," said Lavender eventually. She walked over to the window between Harry's and Ron's beds. "After their fight during the break, I've been trying to find a good time to bring the topic up. You know, tell Parvati that Padma was just as hurt by her mothers' death as she was, but dealt with it differently."

"Parvati completely ignored my hints at wanting to talk about that, so instead of I focused on what she is fixated on: you and Padma." Lavender said, and she turned to face Harry, sitting up on the window sill. "I thought if I could resolve the situation between you three, they could sort out their differences about their stepmother themselves. I've never met her. I don't know what to do about that."

Lavender kicked her legs back and forth. "So I did. I talked about you and Padma being friends. I said as gently as I could that Padma wasn't in the wrong to be friends with you." She locked eyes with Harry for a moment. "She was right, you know – Padma. Parvati never really tried to be friends with you. What's the word for what's Parvati being about this? Illogical?"

"You didn't say that to her, did you? That she was being illogical? Or echoed Padma's point?"

She frowned and Harry swore he saw her eyes water, but she looked away before he could really tell. "I didn't get far enough for that. I thought I was getting through to her. I mentioned she should accept that you two are friends. She was listening to me and admitted she had been harsh on Padma. Then I said she should apologise and reconcile with the pair of you, and then it happened." She sighed. "Then she received a letter."

A letter?

"Who was it from?" he asked.

"Her father," answered Lavender. "I recognised the handwriting. I asked what was it about, but she didn't respond. So I watched her and waited, you know. Trying to figure out what it was. I was concerned since I'd been making so much progress about her and Padma."

"So...?" prompted Harry.

"So when she stopped reading, there was nothing. Zip. No reaction at all. Then out of nowhere she scrunched up the letter and burnt it. She scared me..." admitted Lavender. "I tried asking what was wrong, but she wouldn't talk to me about it anymore. Instead, she rounded on me about Padma."

The young woman wiped at her eyes and let out of a humourless chuckle. "She accused me of siding with Padma."

Harry was at a total loss at what to say.

"I tried to explain myself, but she wasn't listening anymore." Lavender continued. "She just yelled. Then she told me her father wanted to leave Britain and return to India. And take her and Padma with him."

Harry was taken aback. Leave Britain...?

"Then she stormed off and left me there." Lavender hugged her shoulders. "I can't believe it, Harry. Parvati leaving... She's my best friend." She paused, and sighed. "Yet, even before this she's been acting so weird." She paused again for a long moment. "I don't like who Parvati is anymore, Harry."

Nor did Harry. But he didn't have the friendship with Parvati that Lavender had shared since their first year. What if Hermione had started acting this strangely? What would he do?

"I love her; she's my best friend, but..."

She sounded defeated.

Something about it struck a chord in Harry.

"Are you going to give up then?"

Startled by the question, Lavender looked up at Harry again. Her eyes were wet. "What?"

"Keep trying," insisted Harry. "If you really love her and value her friendship. Would you want her to give up on you?"

"No..."

"Then keep trying to reach through to her. You're the one she's always been with at Hogwarts. Only you would be able to get through to her. Especially if..." This time Harry paused, thinking about what it meant if Padma would be leaving. "...if she's leaving. Try and make things right between you two."

Harry could tell she was still unconvinced, but he didn't know how else to encourage her. If the strength of her friendship with Parvati extended only this much, then it only extended this much.

"Okay." Lavender suddenly said. "I don't know if it'll make a difference, but I'll try again."

Harry simply offered her a smile, uncertain to the source of her new drive. Lavender bade farewell, no doubt seeking out Parvati. Instead of returning to Hermione, Harry lay down on his bed and contemplated the situation with Padma, her sister and Lavender. Their possible departure aside, if Parvati couldn't be reasoned with, there was nothing he could think of to resolve the situation except to cease his contact with Padma. But that wasn't an option. Parvati had no right to dictate who he could be friends with. Padma would agree, he knew.

So where did that leave them?

-x-x-x-x-x-

That evening, Harry sought out Padma.

He knew it was her night to patrol the corridors as part of her Prefect duties. The map provided her location, and it wasn't long until he spotted her walking slowly down one Hogwarts' many corridors.

"Hey," greeted Harry, drawing up to her side. Padma jumped, startled at his appearance. She'd clearly been absorbed in her own world.

"Oh, Harry. Hi." Padma said quickly. She laughed half-heartedly, shaking off her surprise. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind today. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I wanted to talk to you." He watched her expression, seeing if she would figure out why he was there. She usually was perceptive that way.

He didn't have long to wait.

"You know? You've spoken with Parvati?" Her voice was soft, sad, as she turned away.

"Lavender, actually," admitted Harry. "She was with Parvati discussing you when the letter was delivered. Parvati took the news poorly from what I gather."

"She did?" Padma said hesitantly. "I thought she'd be pleased."

"Pleased?"

"More time with our step-mother?" she said tartly. "I can see her being pleased about that. That doesn't even take into account her opinion of our friendship. My leaving would hinder what friendship we have."

She stopped walking, turned and leant back against a wall, sighing. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to drag you into our dilemmas, and certainly not for you to hear me sound so petulant."

"It's okay." Harry said with a shrug. For some reason, he was much more comfortable comforting Padma than many others – Hannah for instance. "You practically never complain about anyone or anything. I think we can forgive this little slight."

That earned him the smallest of smiles.

"How are you?" he finally asked. His tone conveyed his complete sincerity.

Padma stared at her feet for a time before suddenly looking up at him, directly into his eyes. "I don't want to leave, Harry. I don't want to leave Hogwarts, Su, the DA, or you... I'm happy here, with all this. I've made friends here, and I'm not ready to leave them."

She pushed herself off of the wall and started pacing. The hallways were quiet except for her footfalls.

"Yet I completely understand where my father is coming from." Padma continued. "I'm afraid for them. We are a family of purebloods, but are not an English family. I believe that logically we are safe from Voldemort. However, we are not supporters of his ideals, and one day he may seek us out for whatever reason. To make an example of us, perhaps."

As much as he wished to, Harry couldn't argue with her logic.

"Therefore, I can't help but think my father has a point. He and my step-mother should certainly follow through and move out of the country. It's Parvati and I leaving that I have spent the afternoon questioning."

Her eyes found his. "We're not in any imminent danger here at Hogwarts. I am happy here. I know it isn't _safe_. But with all I have invested in this place and the people here, I... I want to stay."

"You don't believe your parents will allow you to stay," Harry stated.

"It's unlikely that I would on my own, but Parvati... Maybe if the two of us were united in this decision to finish our school year here, at least, we'd stand a chance." Padma shook her head. "But the thought of Parvati cooperating with me, let alone wanting to stay as well... I don't believe it will happen today."

"You don't know that," insisted Harry. "Have you two tried to talk since last time?"

Padma shook her head. "Half-heartedly, maybe, I've looked for an opportunity. But I don't want to fight again. I have no desire to disobey my father either. He's a good person and has always treated me justly." For a moment, Padma appeared to be lost in thought. She bit her lip, thinking. Suddenly she became more alert and ceased her pacing.

"Earlier you mentioned Parvati and Lavender were discussing me, didn't you?"

"Yeah," said Harry slowly, trying to remember exactly what he'd been told. "Lavender said she thought she'd been making progress. I think she said Parvati had admitted she'd been harsh on you."

Padma nodded but said nothing, processing the information. Harry wondered...

"From what Lavender was describing to me and what I saw, Parvati wasn't pleased." Harry said aloud. "Maybe Parvati feels the same; she doesn't want to leave Hogwarts."

"Then..." Padma trailed off. Then, her voice ever-so-slightly hopeful, "Perhaps I can talk to her... Father said he would come for us at the end of term. That gives me some time."

"If you can work together on this..."

"... Then maybe we can get over this silly fight." Padma finished, sounding more positive than before. "At the very least, we may be able to convince our parents to let us finish this year at Hogwarts."

"Lavender might be able to help." Harry said. "She doesn't want Parvati to leave."

"This might work. If both Lavender and myself..." Padma smiled at him. It wasn't a big one, but it was hopeful. "Thank you, Harry, for coming to find me. You really are a good friend."

Uncertain how to respond, he gave her a smile in return.

"I'll find a chance to speak with her," continued Padma, "and talk to Lavender too. If you can, try and appeal to her. Every bit will help."

"I'll try." That said, he wasn't looking forward to being put in the crossfire again. But Padma was someone he kind of enjoying having around...

Padma looked to her watch. "Merlin, it's getting late. I need to finish my patrol." She looked up and smiled at him once more, a proper one this time, genuine. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She turned and began to walk away. Harry watched her walk away, his mind still on her smile.

He licked his suddenly dry lips and quietly said, "See you tomorrow."

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was eight days after her parents were murdered, and the day after the funeral, when Hannah approached Harry.

Susan had been at her side the entire time, as she was now. Hannah avoided looking him in the eyes until Susan nudged her not-so-gently.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly. She was looking him in the eyes; they were shifting rapidly, not stopping for more than a moment. Harry didn't know what to make of it. "I know you're not fault here. I..." her voice broke, and she looked away as her eyes watered. Susan reached out and grasped Hannah's hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Harry saw it returned.

"It's okay," replied Harry. He wasn't sure if it was. But what could he do? Say no in the face of what she'd lost? That kind of guilt was something he could live without.

"Sssh," whispered Susan. Hannah took a long moment to compose herself. Harry felt ridiculous standing there not knowing what to do.

"I know it's not your fault my... p-parents are gone." Hannah managed. "I know whose fault it is. A-and I'll be with Susan wherever she goes." Harry could see the struggle not to break down again. Susan enveloped her friend in an embrace, giving Harry a look over her shoulder. She smiled sadly. Harry understood. It'd take time before she was better.

Mixed feelings were how Harry described what he felt. Perhaps it was simply the bitterness he felt towards Hannah after her blaming him, which had festered over the past week, but Harry couldn't help notice she'd said she'd follow Susan, not him, and wondered if there was anything more too why she'd spoken so precisely.

After a whispered conversation, the pair separated and Hannah headed out of earshot. Harry gave Susan a questioning look.

"I asked if I could speak to you alone for a moment."

"What's wrong?" asked Harry. Then, he added as an afterthought, "Aside from the obvious."

"It's true, just so you know." Susan said as if he hadn't spoken. "Hannah doesn't blame you anymore. But I'm worried, Harry."

Harry began to feel horribly guilty about feeling glad he wasn't being blamed for something he had no control over.

"Worried about...?"

Susan sighed, and looked Harry dead in the eye. "It's not you she blames anymore, Harry. It's herself she blames."

"Herself?" repeated a dumbfounded Harry. "I don't understand. We had no way of knowing they would be targeted..."

"Harry, she's grieving," replied Susan, her voice hitching. "I think... she thinks she should've been there to save them, I don't know. I'm just trying to make sure she comes out the other side of this, not understand it."

The hug was instinctive, and one of the few Harry had initiated outside of his time with Hermione. Susan accepted it and let out a quiet sob. It was nearly a minute before she was calm again.

"I'd better go," she said softly. "Thank you for that." Susan then let out a small laugh. "It's funny how things change. A fortnight ago we were trying to decide the best way to show you we were serious about that Christmas present..."

Harry _really_ didn't know what to say.

Susan left it at that and walked off to be with Hannah. It was something, at least, that they had each other. Harry didn't want to wonder what would've become of either without the other. He hoped he'd never have to see it.

-x-x-x-x-x-

As February drew to a close, Susan and Hannah returned to both incarnations of the DA. While her depression was apparent, her peers were glad to see Hannah out of her dorm and actively involved in class and her extracurricular activities.

Other concerns reared their heads, among them the mystery of the Parselmouth. Hermione and Padma had fruitlessly scoured the library books that referenced Parselmouths for a method to recognise or detect one. Without a means of detection, their search was at a dead end.

Just as well. As the last weekend in February approached, so did the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Harry's role as Captain ate up what little free time Harry had between: classes, extra lessons, and the DA. Dean Thomas had been brought in to replace Ginny due to her Quidditch ban. He was in need of practice but capable. Katie and Demelza would be carrying the attack on Saturday, however.

The match was close until the Snitch factored in. Gryffindor won 260-140. Dean had played his role well, acting as a disruptor to the opposing Chasers plays and working as an intermediary between Katie and Demelza on their attacking runs. Hufflepuff's Beaters had shattered the defence, however, to maintain a slight lead throughout most of the game.

The elation in the wake of the victory was short lived. The following morning, news arrived about another series of attacks by Death Eaters, this time in Bristol, Portsmouth, Cambridge and Birmingham. The fatality count on both sides was nine. Harry recognised none of the named Death Eaters, except for a former Slytherin who was in his final year during Harry's first.

Questions, about the amount of Death Eaters there were, re-emerged from the recesses of Harry's mind. The Aurors were taking more and more Death Eaters with them, but no members of Voldemort's inner circle had been caught or killed. He clearly was saving them for something else, some other purpose. But what?

It was one night while contemplating this before bed that Harry noticed a faint buzzing noise emanating from his trunk. Confused, he used his wand to handle his possessions, not taking any chances, moving them aside one by one until he reached the bottom. Lying there vibrating was the brown, ornate communication box Fleur had given him for Christmas.

It had been weeks since Harry had last given Fleur more than a cursory thought, and truth be told the communication box had been forgotten. A moment of hesitancy passed before he picked up the box and opened it.

Written on the pad In Fleur's elegant handwriting was a message.

_Harry,_

_I wish I was writing to you with happier news. Instead, I write to confess something. _

_I have spoken with Bill and told him what happened between us. I could not stand to withhold the truth any longer. I love him, I truly do, and I want us to work. I felt you should know in case the pair of you converse in the future._

_Bill and I have been strained at best over the last few months. But I believe we may be able to work things out. To that effort, I am staying with the Order but I must withdraw my involvement in your group. Bill does not trust you, as you can imagine, and you know of his objections when I originally joined. I feel this is for the best, for all of us._

_Harry, if you ever need my help, you have but to ask and I will assist you any way I am able. However, I must distance myself from you for now._

_I wish you the best of luck. I hope that with time we may resume our friendship._

_All the best,_

_Fleur_

Harry leant back into his pillow and reread the message. Sighing, he closed the box and laid it down beside him.

So Bill now knew that Fleur and he had kissed? Harry wondered how Bill had reacted to that, how that conversation played out. Not positively or well, certainly. But if Bill and Fleur resolved this issue and were happy with each other, Harry was happy for them.

Her withdrawal from the DA didn't come as a huge surprise. As she'd written, Bill was against it from the outset. She probably compromised with Bill, to distance herself from Harry. It was a loss, but not significant. At this stage, while he was still at Hogwarts, her assistance was superfluous. Later on, perhaps he'd feel the loss more...

It surprised him how little he actually felt about the entire thing. Time and space did seem to heal all wounds. Or recent and current events were too distracting to give those nights any consideration.

For a moment, Harry considered broaching the topic with Hermione. He wasn't sure why. To ask why Fleur had even told him? To wonder about how Fleur and Bill were fairing? To talk about how he felt about it all?

No, there really wasn't much point. He was glad they were trying to sort things out. That was the end of it.

Harry sat up and picked the box back up. He held it in his palm, staring at it, contemplating responding. Instead, he put it back in his trunk and repacked it, leaving it to be forgotten once again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

"Well done everyone," congratulated Harry. "We'll call it a day here. The next meeting will be the day after tomorrow at eight p.m."

The mishmash of Hogwarts students began the process of evacuating the Room of Requirement for their dormitories. The last two hours had passed at a rapid pace. It seemed too short sometimes. But teaching his fellow students was immensely satisfying when the results were shown, and they were beginning to show.

The highlight, however, was the return of a much more cheerful Susan. Hannah was present also, and was more cheerful than she'd appeared to him in the last fortnight. It was nice to see a half smile at Lavender's misaimed spell hitting the ground beneath Ernie, causing him to slip and fall on his arse, when her target had been several dozen feet to Ernie's right.

Ernie's reaction was a little less positive. For a dangerous second he appeared to be gearing up for another tirade, but it was Hannah's half smile that calmed him down.

Despite the positives throughout the meeting, Harry had that sinking feeling. That one you have when you know you're doing something very, very stupid and still won't stop regardless of how bad an idea it may be.

Padma and Lavender had hung back. From their expressions and whispered conversation, Harry guessed they were preparing themselves to confront Parvati.

Harry sighed and walked closer to the pair, hoping that this time things would go better.

Padma noticed him first.

"Harry..."

_Damnit_.

Damn those eyes pleading with him, hoping he would help. Why'd he have to agree? The dispute between the Patil twins wasn't something he should be intruding on, but how could he say no now?

All too quickly Harry found himself with the Patil twins and Lavender, alone. Tense was an apt word for the atmosphere. Displeased described Parvati just as aptly.

"You lied to me, Lav." Parvati glared at her best friend. "You promised you wouldn't become involved. And you wouldn't do anything with _him_."

Lavender looked regretful for a moment. Then, she met her friends' eyes. "You haven't been my friend for months now, Parv. I want the old you back."

"Parvati, can we please talk?" pleaded Padma.

"I'm not listening to another intervention. I'm leaving."

Without another glance, she started to leave the empty room. Padma looked after her, defeated.

Almost without a second thought, Harry stepped forward and said, "Hear them out, Parvati." She continued without stopping. _Bloody __hell, __she's __stubborn._

Harry reached for something to make Parvati stay, to at least hear them out. The only thing that came to mind was, "Padma doesn't want to leave Hogwarts either."

Parvati's footsteps faltered.

"Parvati, please," continued Harry, seizing the opportunity, "just hear them out. Look, I know I shouldn't be here, but Parvati, your sister wanted my help. You're not even giving her a chance to talk to you anymore, so what do you expect she'd do? Give up on you? Whatever slight you think she has done… is it worth completely ignoring her?"

"Now you two are ganging up on me? Is that what you two are up to all the time behind my back?"

For a moment, Harry could do nothing but marvel at the sheer pettiness that Parvati was exhibiting.

"Parvati," he began, softly and calmly, "Please, for the sake of Padma and yourself, give it a rest. You're acting like a child, and can't you see how much it's hurting her?"

"Stay out of this," snarled Parvati, rounding on him.

"Stop it, Parv!" exclaimed Lavender. "Stop it, please. Harry doesn't deserve this."

Predictably, that claim was received poorly. Harry cursed under his breath. The situation was deteriorating fast.

"Parvati, listen to your sister," said Harry. "Whatever the differences between you two and your stepmother, or whatever the issue is, is it really worth throwing away your sister for it? You don't know how lucky you are to have a sibling, let alone one that cares about you so much."

He sighed, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every passing second. But he wasn't going to let Parvati just walk out like this. "If you don't like what they have to say, we won't stop you. But damnit, Parvati, this is your sister and your best friend! They deserve better than the way you've been treating them."

Parvati was yet to move. At least, Harry figured, that meant she was listening.

"He's right…" Padma said in a small voice. "I don't want to return to India yet. I have so much here that's important to me… I'm not ready to leave it behind."

"I don't want you to go either, Parv." Lavender said. "I know it's selfish… but I want you here with me."

Parvati turned around to face her sister and friend. "I don't want to leave yet either." She shrugged. "But you know dad. He won't change his mind just for us."

"You don't know that." Padma countered. "We haven't agreed on something this important for a long time! That will at least get him to listen to us. Take us seriously."

She shook her head.

Padma remained persistent, albeit her voice strangled as she said, "Remember… remember when mother passed. He wanted us to move away then, but we convinced him to stay."

"That was… that was because I didn't want to return without her…" whispered Parvati. "It was too soon."

"I know… I felt the same way."

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, wondering if Lavender felt the same intrusiveness he was feeling.

"He understood us then," Padma persisted. "We can make him understand again. If nothing else, we could argue that we finish our school year so as to not disrupt our education."

Parvati closed her eyes. Harry could tell that Padma was getting to her.

"I want him to leave."

Harry's heart sank. Had he been wrong?

"Parvati…" began Padma.

"I'll listen; I'll talk to you, but tell him to leave."

Padma turned to Harry with a helpless expression. "Harry, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. I'll go." In a small way he was grateful for the exit. He'd done his part and gotten Parvati to the table so to speak. The rest was their issues, not his.

He edged close to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. He whispered, "Good luck."

"Can you wait outside…?" she whispered back. He searched her eyes, and found he couldn't even contemplate saying no. He nodded.

He gave Parvati and Lavender a quick glance before leaving the room. He felt Parvati's watchful eyes every second of the twenty paces to the door. He shut it quietly behind him.

The following twenty minutes crawled by. Nobody passed the corridor outside the Room of Requirement. With the room itself soundproofed, his surroundings were silent, leaving Harry to wonder how the conversation fared.

Suddenly, the door opened beside him and Parvati emerged. Harry jumped at her arrival and met her eyes for the briefest moment. Her expression was inscrutable. Her eyes were teary. But they were also hard, almost cold. Had the conversation turned sour after all?

Without saying a word, she walked passed him and left him alone. A minute later, the door opened again and Lavender and Padma emerged.

"How'd it go?" asked Harry immediately. He searched their faces, met their eyes.

He saw hope in Padma's.

"She's agreed to try and convince daddy to stay for the rest of the year." Padma said with hesitant excitement. Perhaps in spite of herself, she smiled. It was a real, genuine smile too.

Lavender, also smiling, continued, "I think we might see some of the old Parvati back again."

"It's too early to say," said Padma, trying to be calm and collected. But her excitement was becoming more prevalent. "I do think we made real progress though."

"That's great," said Harry softly. He meant it, too. But he was surprised. Half an hour ago reconciliation seemed impossible. What had happened in there?

Lavender and Padma turned to each other and shared a strange silent exchange.

"Parv's still not terribly fond of you," began Lavender, turning back to face Harry.

"She was very adamant about you not speaking to her." Padma finished.

Somewhat perplexed, Harry just nodded. He could live with that. But the question 'why' persisted in his mind.

"I'll keep my distance," he promised.

"I'll try and work on getting her to forgive you, but it might take some time. I don't want to risk losing her again."

"It's fine, Lavender." Harry shook his head. "I can live with this."

He exchanged a look with Padma. She smiled at him.

"Anyway, I'll leave you two alone," said Lavender suddenly, looking between the two of them. "I have curfew to worry about." Then, with surprising glee, she added, "And so much gossip to catch up on!"

The blonde bounded off with poorly disguised glee. Harry exchanged a look with Padma and smiled too.

"You really managed to sort things out?"

Padma tucked some loose hair behind her ear. Now that he was paying attention, Harry noted her eyes were red. She had cried at some point.

"I think we might have. She listened to me, to us."

Harry contemplated mentioning what he'd seen of Parvati when she'd left. But the look on Padma's face, the hope in her eyes... He couldn't take that away from her, not without being sure. She could've just been angry at him still.

"Thank you, Harry." Padma met his eyes and smiled. "Thank you for saying what you did. I believe it really helped her realise how she'd been acting." She laughed a little. "I thought you'd gone too hard at first, but when she didn't leave... I... I don't know. Just... Just, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Padma continued to look into his eyes. Harry returned the gaze, taking in her now undisguised happiness at having her sister potentially returning to her.

"I'm with you all the way, Harry," said Padma softly. "I'll see this through with you." She touched his check with one hand, slowly caressing it. "We can do this if we work together, all of us. I know it."

Harry closed her eyes. The contact... He struggled not to reach and grasp her hand. This wasn't the time for that sort of thing...

He opened his eyes and saw that they were closer than they thought. His eyes were drawn to her eyes, cheeks, and a blemish on her right check. Her lips... Never had he felt such a strong urge to kiss someone than he did in that moment.

"Ooooo, what does Peevesie have here?" came the cackling voice of Poltergeist. Harry and Padma jumped apart at the intrusion, looking away from each other. Harry could feel his face burning. "Potty's in lurrrrrve."

God, the timing. Harry wanted to kill that damn poltergeist. Instead, he said, "Go away, Peeves. I have it on good authority the Bloody Baron is enjoying spending his nights in the area."

Peeves just cackled some more and flew away chanting "Potty's in lurrrrve."

An awkward silence reigned after Peeves's chants faded from earshot. Harry sighed. Just as well. He wasn't sure if there hadn't been an interruption he would've been able to stop himself...

_And __just __why __would __you __want __to __stop?_ He asked himself.

Uncertain of the answer, he gave Padma a smile which she returned. Without saying a word, they started walking towards her dorm.

They exchanged a wordless parting outside her common room. Harry spent many hours in that night imagining what would've happened had they not been interrupted.

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Very good, Harry." Flitwick said in that persistent cheerful manner. "Your reactions and timing are sharper than ever. I wish I could have duelled you as you are now when I was your age. It would have been one marvellous match!"

"Thank you, sir," replied Harry breathlessly. How the Professor wasn't showing more signs of weariness than heavier breathing was beyond him. They'd been duelling almost non-stop for half an hour, only pausing for Flitwick to point out and remedy openings and errors in Harry's duelling style – which were fewer and further between as the weeks passed.

"Remember to maintain focus at all times. I felt your attention waver early on."

True enough, Harry's mind hadn't been entirely focused on learning after the events of the previous night. As a result, he'd been caught by surprise several times, and had the bruises to match.

Flitwick waved his wand several times, repairing and cleaning the room they'd used for duelling. "I think we shall finish for the night," he said.

"Yes, sir."

However, Flitwick hesitated from departing. The recovering Harry noticed after a few moments.

"Sir?"

"Harry, Professor McGonagall and I wish to speak with you regarding the future of our lessons. Can I trouble you to follow me to her office?"

The total absence of good cheer in Flitwick's tone sent Harry's mind racing. Had he done something wrong? He surely couldn't be progressing too slowly. Flitwick and McGonagall often gave praise to his efforts, and he'd been pushing himself hard.

Realising he hadn't replied yet, he said, "Of course, sir."

"Wonderful," Flitwick responded. "Let us be on our way."

The walk to McGonagall's office was a quiet one. Harry spent the entire trip trying to discern what his teachers would say. Before he knew it he was outside McGonagall's office. Flitwick knocked on the door. A moment later they were granted permission to enter.

"Ah, come in, Filius," McGonagall said upon their entry. She was seated at her desk, student's essays in front of her. "Tonight?" Her tone conveyed surprise.

"I believe he's ready, Minerva." Flitwick responded confidently.

Harry remained silent. Working with the two Professors' over the last six months he had developed a sincere and strong sense of respect for the pair of them. He squashed the burning need to appeal to them for the lessons to continue. Between the two of them, he'd learnt more than he had in his first three years combined. But if this was the end of the road, he was grateful he'd been permitted this long under their tutelage.

McGonagall sighed and removed her glasses. "Mr. Potter. Harry." She replaced her glasses and looked him in the eye. "How would you rate your progress?"

"Professor?" said Harry questioningly. He didn't quite understand the question. However, upon McGonagall's prompting he considered the question. "I honestly don't know. I only have you two to compare myself to. Judging from Professor Flitwick, I still have plenty to learn."

Flitwick and McGonagall exchanged a look. The former spoke first. "Harry, let us explain the situation."

"Your request for our assistance to continue your learning at a more rapid pace was peculiar but not unprecedented," said McGonagall. "Others in the past have requested permission for a similar treatment. However, most were refused on the grounds that our jobs as Professors and Heads of Houses were too demanding. Albus, and ourselves, believe your situation was special enough to warrant an exception."

"We've taught you a lot, Harry." Flitwick took over again. "More than we expected to. You are capable. More than capable."

Harry looked between the two Professors'. "I've learnt all you can teach me?" his disbelief was evident to all present.

"Far from it," said McGonagall. "We have plenty more we could teach you. It could take us a decade to instil upon you everything we know. What we're saying is that our teaching you will draw to a close at the end of term."

"Professor –"

"Let her speak, Harry," Flitwick interrupted disapprovingly.

"Harry, you are far more capable a wizard than almost all NEWT level graduates I have had the pleasure of teaching." McGonagall said bluntly. "You take to practical use of magic like few I have ever witnessed when you apply yourself as you have in the past six months. Your greatest failing at present is a lack of real world application of what we have taught you."

"That is something we cannot provide much more than we already have." Flitwick took over. "You're becoming familiar with the way I duel, and it becomes more challenging every time to hold you at bay as you've improved and learnt my moves, for lack of a better term."

Harry struggled to comprehend that. He didn't believe himself anywhere near the level of Flitwick, a master dueller. After all, he'd never managed a direct hit in all their duels. The man was surprisingly agile, and seemed to know every counter in the book.

"We can offer you little more that we believe pertinent to any scenario outside an apprenticeship," continued McGonagall. "You could pass the NEWT practicals for Transfiguration, Charms and Defence right now if you wished, and fairly well. That aside, our work as educators and administrators here is set to increase substantially in the lead up to end of year exams. We would not be able to meet more than perhaps once a fortnight."

Harry was speechless. He thought back over the dozens of duels he'd had with Flitwick, Hermione, Padma, Neville, and everyone in the DA. His style of duelling had evolved considerably, sure. But was he really _capable_ now? Would he be able to deal with Death Eaters on his own?

That wasn't a question he could truly answer without experiencing it himself. Did that mean...?

Harry returned to his senses a moment later. He expressed his gratitude to the two Professors and returned to Gryffindor tower, deep in thought.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was less surprised at this revelation when he spoke to her an hour later. She was patient if not slightly condescending when she told him to really think about the way he duelled now compared to the way the Death Eaters had during the Department of Mysteries.

"You may not be able to defeat someone truly experienced like Tonks or Moody, Harry, but you'd make them work for it."

Harry went to bed that night starting to believe it.

However, that brought forth thoughts long since pushed aside for a variety of reasons. On some level, Harry wished this moment might never arrive. But it was inevitable ever since he'd taken the steps he'd taken at the start of the year.

If he was capable of handling himself now in a duel, in a life-and-death scuffle, then what was there still at Hogwarts for him? Perhaps, then, it was time to resume planning to leave...

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Harry, I've got to run to the Library. I'll meet you back in the common room after your practice?"

"I'll be there." Harry watched Hermione stand beside him and leave the Great Hall with a smile on his face. He could always depend on her for some normalcy, especially dealing with Parvati, Padma and Lavender the other night.

"We should get moving, too," spoke Demelza's from behind him. Her face was lit up with amusement and excitement. "I've got a few ideas I want to try out."

"Go ahead," replied Harry. "I'll catch up in a minute."

"Everything alright?" asked Neville, watching with some bemusement as Demelza walked off with a pout on her face. Harry was a bit oblivious to her flirting.

"I'm fine," said Harry instantly. He shook his head. "Just have a lot on my mind tonight... lately. I haven't even asked how you're going since... you know."

Neville stopped eating and looked down at his plate. "Katie and I are talking sometimes, if that's what you're referring to."

"That's good to hear." Harry gave a momentary thought to Fleur and her message from a fortnight passed. It was a nice thought to think that exes weren't lost as friends. Neville's voice drew him back to the present.

"That's debatable. She's made it clear her opinion on the DA on several occasions now." Neville ran his hand through his hair. "We've argued a few times about it, about you, and me, and me following you. But I can't help but care about her anyway."

Harry offered a wry look. Neville saw it and couldn't help let out a small laugh. "I still can't believe it even happened. I thought I'd be girlfriendless until after Hogwarts."

"I know what you mean."

The pair drifted into a silence, Neville thinking of Katie, Harry thinking of –

"How's Padma doing?"

Harry jumped a little at the question. "W-what?"

"I saw Parvati this morning and she looked like she was almost her usual self," explained Neville. "I assume you spoke to her and Padma...?"

"Oh, right, yeah, she's fine."

Neville gave Harry a knowing grin. "You like her, don't you."

It wasn't even a question.

When did Neville start paying attention to this sort of thing?

"I should get to practice," said Harry, changing the subject. "Captain can't be late."

Neville just continued with that damn grin. Harry couldn't resist a laugh. It was nice, the camaraderie that was developing between the pair of them. It wasn't the same as it was with Ron. It was different, but no less important. And as much as he loved talking with Hermione and Padma, it was nice to have male company.

"Give me a sec, and I'll walk with you." Neville quickly finished the remains on his plate. The pair rose and left together.

"I was thinking–" began Neville as the pair walked into the Great Hall, only to be interrupted by another familiar voice.

"Hey, Harry, Neville" said a breathless Susan. As usual, Hannah was nearby. But she stayed far enough back to not be a part of the conversation. Harry tried to catch her eye for a moment, but she was resolutely avoiding looking at anyone in particular.

Susan continued to talk during Harry's attempts at making eye contact. "I just want to tell you that Hannah and I won't make it to the meet tomorrow morning."

"Is something wrong?" asked Harry, concerned. He switched his attention to the woman in front of him.

Susan hesitated a little in her response. "Tomorrow morning... Hannah has to see her solicitor about her inheritance."

Harry's stomach dropped. "Oh."

"Yeah," She paused for a moment while she took a deep breath, "I'll be with her. I was named in their will... Well, it was my Aunt who was named originally, but everything my Aunt owned is now mine, so..." She looked away and wiped somewhere near her eyes. "We'll be gone for most of the day I believe, sorting it all out."

"It's okay," said Harry. "Just take care of each other."

"We will. Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow night."

Susan turned and gathered up Hannah, the pair walking off together.

"Merlin, I'd forgotten all about a will reading." Neville said from beside Harry. "I never asked about it."

"Neither had I."

"They'll be alright, Harry," said Neville confidently.

Harry, still watching Susan and Hannah depart, wrenched his mind back on track. He could ponder more on Hannah's wellbeing later.

"Yeah, they will be. Let's go."

Before he could move two steps, three sets of purposeful footfalls approached the pair. They stopped a few meters short. Harry could feel a pair of eyes on him.

"Ah, Potter," an all too familiar voice drawled. "Abbot and Bones your new playmates? It's nice to see you associating with your kind. I suppose the three of you have nobody else to spend the Easter break with after all, unlike the rest of us who actually have a home and a family."

Harry turned to face Malfoy, who was looking much healthier than the last time Harry had seen him this close – still pale from blood loss. His attitude, clearly, had recovered as well. He also sported that all too familiar grin of his.

Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott were hovering in the background. Malfoy had finally substituted his goons, had he? However, upon Harry's cursory glance, they seemed almost disinterested in the proceedings. Present for the sake of a presence.

Harry faced Malfoy again. "What do you want, Malfoy? The last time we crossed, I'm pretty certain I wasn't he one casting Unforgivables and bleeding all over the place."

Malfoy seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the reminder of his near death experience. The sole change, in fact, was his grin, from amusement to something almost dangerous.

"I remember, Potter," said Malfoy calmly, "and I've already exacted my revenge for that. No need to concern yourself."

_Exacted__his__revenge?_ Harry thought. _What__revenge?_

Deep in thought, Harry almost missed what was said next.

"But that's hardly _of_ concern right now." Malfoy said dismissively. "I'm curious about this group of yours. I've noticed a trend. Yourself, Bones, now Abbot..."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What are you going on about, Malfoy?"

"I'm feeling generous today, Potter. I want to help you out, help you make more friends. I've already given you a hand once..."

Something about the tone in Malfoy's voice, the almost carelessness of it, sparked a dark thought to life in the back of Harry's mind. Cautiously, Harry took the obvious bait.

"Why?"

"Why else?" Malfoy drawled. "I want us to be best buds."

A small sense of dread began to fester as the thought grew. Harry resisted the instinctive urge to reach for his wand.

"Slow, aren't you, Potter?" Malfoy laughed, and his grin deepened. "I want to help add to the group, of course. You've got a candidate right here. Longbottom is practically an orphan as it is." Malfoy gave Neville a casual look. "If you ask me, you should just put them out of their misery."

Neville tensed, but exerted self-control he'd not had a year ago. Even so, Harry could sense the anger and hatred Neville was exuding.

"But you've been spending time with that Ravenclaw Patil, haven't you?" continued Malfoy, acting oblivious to Neville's almost-reaction. "I think she'd do nicely as the next addition; don't you?"

"You should leave, Malfoy," seethed Neville. "Now."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Finally grown a pair, have we? It's about damn time. You're a disgrace of a pureblood, Longbottom. My deceased grandmother shows more aptitude for magic than you do."

Neville closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was taking a lot of restraint, Harry could see, for his friend to not lash out. Then, he opened his eyes again and stared down his tormentor.

"Perhaps we should find out which one of us is the better wizard then, Malfoy," said Neville with calm intensity. "I think you're behind the times if you believe I'm weak."

A sceptical look was all the response Malfoy provided. Instead, his attention returned to Harry.

"It seems unfair to exclude Granger from this new group of yours. We can't have the two of you separate after all these years. It's just wrong." Malfoy shook his head, amused all the while. "Definitely can't forget about Patil either. I know a guy who can help out with this sort of thing. He's helped me out already after all. Maybe I can help you net both of them."

The dread inside Harry peaked, his stomach bottoming out. It had to be...

"It was you."

Harry spoke quietly, but everyone heard it. It wasn't a question either. It was a statement. Fact.

The grin on Malfoy's face grew triumphant.

"What was me?"

Harry stepped forward, and immediately drew a response from Pansy and Nott, the pair reaching towards their wands. Neville, not entirely understanding yet, also reached for his wand.

"It was you," repeated Harry. "You put Hannah's parents as targets. You were the one who ordered their murder."

Another set of footsteps approached, but Harry ignored them. He was entirely focused on Malfoy's gloating face.

"Why did you do it?" he almost yelled. "They had nothing to do with you!"

Finally, the evil smile disappeared, replaced instantly with an expression of utter loathing and contempt. "You ask _why_, Potter? _You_ are why. You are the reason Abbott's parents are dead, and you'll be the reason when each and every one of your friends and their families die."

Harry clenched his fists, struggling to resist decking the bastard before him.

"Next time," snarled Malfoy, taking a step forward and getting in Harry's face, "actually _kill_ me."

Harry snapped. It wasn't a conscious decision. A half-moment passed and then his wand was in his hand, a spell on the edge of his mind.

But a hand reached out and clasped his arm, pushing it down. It was enough to momentarily stop.

"Don't do it, Harry," cautioned Neville. "It's not worth the trouble that will follow."

"Listen to the wimp, Potter." Malfoy took a step back, looking almost entirely unfazed. But Malfoy knew, Harry could tell even through the anger, that if Neville hadn't been there he'd have been hit and hard. "Remember who you are dealing with the next time you try and interfere. The Dark Lord may have you for himself, but the rest of your little group is free game."

"Harry," whispered Neville warningly. "Leave it. Before a Professor comes."

Malfoy smirked as Harry began to relax. He saw Parkinson and Nott begin to lower their now drawn wands. He hadn't even noticed them draw.

"Come on," barked Malfoy, and the pair followed. They didn't take their eyes of Harry until Malfoy was out of sight.

Neville finally let Harry's arm go once all three had disappeared. "Merlin, Harry," he panted. "I could barely stop you in time, you moved so quickly."

Harry took several steps away from Neville and swore. Hannah's parents... Malfoy had killed them because of their duel in Myrtle's bathroom, because Harry had almost killed him. That had been the revenge he'd taken. It had been foolish to think there would be no ramifications for that, but this... this was something else. Malfoy had raised the stakes again.

"You need to play this carefully, Potter."

This time, it was Daphne who appeared at his side.

Harry whirled to face her. Damnit, she was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. "He sentenced Hannah's parents to death because of _me_, Daphne."

"I know, I heard it all," said Daphne coldly. She gave Neville a quick appraisal, who was failing to hide his dislike of her and her presence. "You made a good choice stopping him, Longbottom. His next retaliation will be much worse if you don't think this through."

"Did you know?" asked Neville, his tone venomous. "Did you know that Hannah's parents were going to die?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes and spat, "No, I did not. I would have warned you if I could have. In case you don't remember, I'm _not_ in Malfoy's circle anymore. I'm not privy to all the details."

"Aren't you supposed to be eavesdropping on him?" Neville persisted. "How –"

"Malfoy's an idiot, but he's not an _idiot_," replied Daphne scathingly. "He takes precautions against being overheard. I can get snatches on conversations on a good day, but he's becoming more and more paranoid."

"But –"

"Enough." Daphne demanded. "You need to focus now. Both of you. It's only a matter of time before he completes his task. When it's complete, he won't waste any time in implementing it. Then Abbot's parents will be the least of your concerns."

Harry took a deep breath, calming down, and looked between the two vastly different people that were his allies. Were they even ready to face whatever Malfoy's task was when sometimes they could barely maintain civility each other?

_Regardless..._ "Then we need to finish this, and soon. Whatever it takes."

"You may have a little time. He's leaving for the holidays. However, that will be a short delay at best. He _will_ come back prepared."

"Then we will too," said Harry, his mind beginning to think properly again. "We'll be ready and will stop him."

"Whatever you intend to do, Potter, decide quickly."

With that comment she departed, leaving Neville and Harry alone again.

"What do you want to do, Harry?"

Harry stared off after Daphne for a long moment. There was so much he needed to think about, but right now it was impossible; too much vying for attention at once.

One thing, however, stayed at the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it aside: Hannah had been right.

It was because of him, because of his association with her, that her parents were dead.

The guilt he had previously felt immediately returned twofold, then threefold. The same mistakes, real and imagined, dogged his thoughts again.

Neville was still there, patiently standing by his side. He seemed to sense Harry's mood. "You okay, Harry?"

His mouth moved on its own. "Malfoy ordered Hannah's parents' death because of me."

Harry didn't move his head to see Neville's reaction, but he felt the change in his stance, close as he was. For a brief moment, Harry missed Ron. To have his spurts of outrage, his rants and threats directed at Malfoy... it would've been comforting in an odd way.

The moment passed, and his guilt was displaced by another surge of anger. The guilt was still there, buried beneath a fresh batch of complete and utter contempt for the arrogant prick, but far less noticeable beneath his anger.

"He will pay," seethed Harry. His frustrations of the previous months came together at once, and bolstered his convictions. It was time.

He turned to Neville. The poor bloke was still fumbling for something to say. He was rattled in his own way, though it was only later Harry realised that.

"I need to clear my head, time to think." Harry turned and started heading up the grand staircase. "I've got to get to practice. Tell Hermione what happened if you see her before I get back. Tell her..." he paused for a few seconds, and then said, "Tell her it's time."

-x-x-x-x-x-

"You alright, cap'n?"

The shout came as such a surprise it was a near thing Harry didn't fall of his broom.

"Fine, Demelza." Harry called back after he regained his composure. "Keep practicing."

Demelza obeyed after giving him a strange look. Harry ignored it.

He'd been swept up in his own world, wrapped up in his guilt and anger, considering his options, what next to do. He'd calmed down for good now, though it had taken some time. Flying had always held a fascination, and an escape, and after a furious and fast-paced first half an hour of practice, he'd settled himself down. Thankfully, the rest of practice was second nature and his teammates mostly had forgotten his mood.

During the summer, it had been an idea of Harry's to organise a new DA to take the fight to Voldemort. The Horcruxes had changed what needed to be done, but didn't change the necessity of the group or its general aim. All their learning was leading to the moment they stepped out into the world.

It seemed to Harry that if Malfoy's machinations did not exist then there would be little else holding him back at Hogwarts except for one glaring issue: Harry had no idea where to search for the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had not yet been forthcoming with anything beyond the scope of the memories of Tom Riddle.

Still, that left Malfoy. Before today, the option of forcing him – of using violence, or even something else – was reluctantly exactly that: an option.

Now it was becoming increasingly like their only choice. Malfoy was not going to conveniently slip up. They had to make a move on him and force it out by whatever means necessary.

However, after their earlier confrontation, Harry admitted to himself he wasn't as reluctant toward the idea of inflicting pain on Malfoy. Of course, he probably wasn't in the best frame of mind to be making such decisions. That, however, mattered little to him then.

Practice continued for another hour. The anger fled as the familiar patterns of flying, dodging, weaving, giving out orders and the fresh air soothed him. But his thoughts rarely strayed from Malfoy.

Removing violence from the equation left only one means of extracting the information. It was more likely to provide results, but it was also illegal without sanctioned use by the right people, and that wasn't something he would receive any time in the near future. But it _would_ guarantee an honest answer, and it was accessible from Hogwarts.

The something else was Veritaserum.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The same couch where the DA had truly begun, and not had been simply a figment, a thought, and possibility in Harry's mind, was where Harry and Hermione now sat, contemplating the next step.

The common room was almost empty now, it being late for a weeknight. However, their privacy was assured through magical means. It was, of course, Hermione who first noticed his melancholy mood the moment he arrived after practice. It persisted still.

Harry sat leaning against an armrest, leaning his head against the back of the couch, one leg crossed, one on the floor. Hermione watched him from the opposite end of the three-seater in the same position except her feet were tucked beneath her.

"We can't wait much longer for him to make a mistake, Hermione," said Harry, echoing his earlier thoughts.

"I know," whispered Hermione. "I... can't believe it came to this, that Malfoy really ordered their deaths."

"Hermione..." began Harry, sighing. "The anger I felt... It was almost Bellatrix all over again." He looked up and met her eyes. They were sad. He steeled himself, tapping into his determination. "I won't forgive him. Whatever happens, he has chosen Voldemort. I won't hold back."

Hermione looked away for a moment, the intensity of his gaze, the words too much. Then she turned, looking him dead in the eye, and whispered, "I won't stop you."

Harry swallowed as Hermione's words sunk in.

She had effectively given him permission to hurt Malfoy, something that went well against all her values. That admission hadn't have been easy for her.

"Harry..." Hermione appeared uncertain, and perhaps a little afraid. "Please..."

"Please?"

"I know what I said – that I won't stop you. But please. Be careful..." Her voice became smaller as she spoke, until, "I don't want to lose you."

"Hermione..."

"Harry, you're my best friend. I want you the way you are: brave and strong, but also a little clueless and sweet, even unintentionally. I don't want to lose that person."

She was nearing that rambling stage now. But Harry, dumbfounded at first, began to understand what her concern was targeted at. If he followed through with his unspoken promise to hurt Malfoy, he mightn't be him anymore. Controlled, premeditated, intentional, violence was never something Harry had truly entertained before until Bellatrix Lestrange had murdered his godfather in front of his eyes. Other concerns had quickly quashed those thoughts.

But Malfoy had stirred that darkness again.

Harry shuffled forward and grasped Hermione, who looked up at him as he did. Her eyes were watering a little, and he felt horrible for causing her such pain.

"I won't, Hermione. I won't disappear. I promise." He titled his head, giving her a smile. "Do you know why?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Because you will be there to keep me grounded," said Harry with perfect honesty. "You've kept me grounded these past years. I'd bet my vault that you will through this too."

Her bone-crushing hug caught him by surprise, but he returned it as best he could given the strength she was exhibiting. Soon his need for more oxygen forced him to end it however. Reluctantly, Hermione moved back on the couch, wiping at her face.

The silence that ensued was comfortable, as the pair succumbed to their own thoughts again.

"Neville said you said 'it's time,'" said Hermione a few minutes later. "What's on your mind? Time for what?"

Harry gathered she knew exactly what he'd meant, but wanted to hear it for herself. Hard as it was to consider the thought of putting her in danger, she had time and again proved her loyalty, proved that she'd stand by him for all time. Harry wondered just how lucky he was to have such a great friend.

"Ever since Hannah's parents died," began Harry, "I've asked myself what exactly I am doing here that's helping to end it." He raised a finger in a gesture of silence at Hermione's expression. "I know that learning as much as I can is important, and that the DA could be of invaluable help, but… even so, I wonder. I'm still here in Hogwarts. Meanwhile, Voldemort is out there working on whatever it is he has planned and we haven't even started searching for Horcruxes."

"Harry, I've been your friend for almost six years. I understand your frustration…"

_If anyone had an idea, it would be her. But…_

"Even without this prophecy hanging over our heads, Hermione… I'd want to fight him, to stop Voldemort." Harry looked out the window beside his bed. The sky was filled with clouds, rain threatening to fall at a moment's notice. "He has caused so much pain, to me and to the people I care about. I can't walk away from it."

Hermione bit her lip.

"I know he's not entirely my responsibility, but the prophecy, however you look at it, demands we meet again, and I won't sit in this castle and hide while people out there die. I will meet him head on if I have to."

"That's what I thought. You're saying you think it's time to leave Hogwarts?"

The very thought of leaving the school and pursuing Horcruxes and Voldemort himself was terrifying. However, it wasn't as if were a new thought, ever since the idea had been pitched months before.

"Yes," said Harry softly.

Hermione breathed deeply. "Wow, Harry."

"I know."

"This… is a huge step." Hermione had an uncertain expression on her face. "Are… Do you think we're ready?"

"I… think so," said Harry, though he sounded not entirely certain even to himself. "You said yourself that I'm capable now. I've taught you and everyone else in our DA everything I've learnt. _We__'__re_ capable now." His voice grew stronger, more certain as he continued. "We could do this."

"What about Hogwarts? What about Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head. "Pretend Malfoy doesn't exist and answer me this, Hermione. What more can I do at Hogwarts that I can't do from outside? What am I still doing here that is so important?"

It was telling that Hermione took some time to come up with a counterargument. "You're teaching the other students to defend themselves."

He nodded. "That's the one thing I can think of that I wouldn't want to leave behind. But even so, we can't remain at Hogwarts just for that. There are older students, seventh years who know plenty about duelling that could take over if I was – _we_ were to leave."

"Harry…" began Hermione, but she trailed off. Then, "I'm not trying to be a dissenting voice here. I've supported you… I will always support you, Harry. However, the idea of us leaving terrifies me. It has since you first mentioned it."

Harry shuffled closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. "It probably should."

Hermione smiled at him, laying her hand on his. After a moment, she let out a small laugh. "I'm seriously contemplating leaving Hogwarts, my education. The things you make me do for you, Harry."

"You don't have to…" It was an automatic response, something deep within his psyche that wanted to protect his friends. However, it made it no less true. Nevertheless, a month prior Hermione had made her intentions rather clear.

"I want to." A small quaver in her voice betrayed what must've been her fear. She scrunched her eyes closed and then opened them, and her mouth, attempting this time to say it without fear.

"I want to."

And she succeeded.

A moment passed in silence. Then Hermione laughed again, quieter this time.

"I must admit I haven't really contemplated where I go after Hogwarts."

At Harry's puzzled expression, Hermione elaborated. "Living arrangements."

"Ah. I've already thought of that," replied Harry. "I intend to owl Lupin and ask to stay with him for the break. I'll find us somewhere while I'm with him."

Harry noted the pensive expression that flashed on Hermione's face. "What is it?"

"Have you thought about telling him anything? Everything?"

Harry looked around the room, noting that he and Hermione were now alone. It must be getting late.

"I don't know much about him, Hermione," he said solemnly. "I care about him, but that might be because he's the last connection I have to my parents. Maybe I could trust him. That could be something else to do during the break. It would be nice to have the help of someone in the Order."

Mentioning the Order brought to mind Fleur. She would have been his help in there had things not turned out the way they had.

Hermione brought him out of his reverie almost immediately.

"You've thought a lot about this."

It might've been Harry hearing things, but he could've sworn he heard something in her voice. Something sad.

"I did little else over the summer. It helped me grieve," he admitted. Then, being unusually observant, said, "That's as far as I ever got. I'll need your help for pretty much everything else."

That must've been among the right things to say as he was graced with a true smile.

He grinned back, in spite of everything that had happened that day. "It's a crying shame, too. I was enjoying appearing like I was all independent and brainy now."

Hermione laughed, and Harry joined her. But they sobered all too quickly for either of their liking.

"What about the Horcruxes? Do you have any idea where to start looking?"

Harry ran a hand through is hair, sighing. "That's the one obstacle I can't seem to overcome when I consider leaving. I have no idea where to begin a search. Dumbledore has certainly checked all the locations he showed me in the pensieve memories more thoroughly than I can."

"Then ask him." Hermione said as if it were the simplest thing. "Ask him to tell you all he knows. Two people searching for Horcruxes is better than one."

A disbelieving expression crossed Harry's face. "It wouldn't be that simple."

"You think he'll not answer if you ask?" asked Hermione. At Harry's nod, she continued, "Then why did he allow you to have the extra lessons, Harry? If he didn't want your help, or you to improve, then why would he take valuable time from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn to teach you as much as they could?"

That was something more difficult to answer. Dumbledore's motives tended to be rather complex, or at least his plans were.

Maybe. Somehow it did seem something the Headmaster would do: wait until Harry directly asked for the information, until such a point where Harry was ready for the information. After all, it had been the same for the prophecy.

"Try it, Harry," encouraged Hermione. "If he refuses… we'll figure something out. We always do."

Harry didn't reply, instead pondering the Headmaster and what he was planning. The man wouldn't jeopardise stopping Voldemort for anything less than an extremely good reason, surely. Whatever their differences, Harry did not doubt Dumbledore's commitment to stopping Voldemort.

Soon, he decided, he would confront Dumbledore and demand answers, once and for all. Once he was ready.

"I suppose that leaves one more question." Hermione squeezed his hand, still on her shoulder. Harry looked back, deep green eyes filled with intelligence and courage. "When?"

"I need time to find us somewhere to stay," said Harry, thinking carefully, "and then we need to stop Malfoy, however we have to."

"Force him?" The words weren't spat out exactly, but there was a bad taste in Hermione's mouth after she'd said it. Even if she wouldn't stop Harry, she still loathed the idea of physical coercion.

"If I have to," replied Harry. He shifted his position and grabbed Hermione's shoulders. "If he gives me no choice, I will. But..." he dropped his gaze for a moment. "There's Veritaserum."

"But –"

"It's illegal unless sanctioned by the Ministry, I know," interrupted Harry. "But Malfoy wouldn't like the attention brought on him if he went to the Ministry to take legal action. Eventually someone would ask the questions: why would I use Veritaserum on him? What information did I want? What were the answers?"

"That's an enormous risk to take, Harry."

"I know. But I'm not willing to let this play out on his terms." Harry released her shoulders and laid back a bit. "Daphne says Malfoy is leaving during the break, so I believe I have some time. I need that time over Easter. So..."

"After Easter," finished Hermione. "We leave Hogwarts."

Harry swallowed. "Yeah."

"Easter is a fortnight away..."

"Yeah."

Hermione grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. Harry returned the gesture.

This was big, the biggest thing he'd ever done. To leave Hogwarts, to enter the world outside, away from the protections that Hogwarts provided. It had been naught but a concept, a thought, for the better part of a year. Now, however, it was becoming a reality. Voldemort was out there and he needed to be stopped. That wasn't going to happen as long as Harry remained within the castle walls.

"We're decided then?" asked Harry.

Hermione matched his gaze. He could see the fear, but also the strength and determination in there; the same strength and determination that had held their friendship together for over five years.

"We are."

She'd be with him until the end. He knew it in his soul. They started this together, and they would end it together.

"Good. After the Easter break, we take Malfoy down. Then we leave Hogwarts and find the Horcruxes."

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: Only 'actual' Parselmouths can access the Chamber for the purposes of this fic. You can't fake the language – ala Ron in DH.

I didn't bother to have Padma explain how hypocritical it would be for her to turn tail and run with her parents when she knowingly, with full understanding what Harry intended, joined the DA. I hope that was self-evident from her character. If not, now you know.

I will be showing just how far Harry has come over the coming chapters.

Hermione saying she won't stop Harry from hurting Malfoy? I think that's a big moment for her.

Yes, Malfoy was rather heavy-handed in his hints. But he was never the master of subtlety. Regardless, he wanted Harry to react, to give him an excuse to hurt him.


	20. Proof

A/N: Chapter title originates from a Coldplay song (a b-side from the Speed of Sound single), from back when they were good.

Thanks to Voice of the Nephilim, Le Rob, ZanyMuggle, BennyS, and CheddarTrek for their invaluable assistance.

Again, I apologise for taking so long to update. But here's a 31,597 word chapter for you to enjoy!

_**Chapter 20: Proof**_

"Remember the three D's. Deliberation, Divination, Determination. Without these firmly in mind, you will not succeed!"

The Apparition instructor Twycross' voice carried through the open doors into the Entrance Hall where Harry stood monitoring the proceedings, leaning against the far wall. The Great Hall had been temporarily transformed to accommodate Apparition lessons each Saturday over the past twelve weeks. The house tables were pushed back against the walls, the benches floating above the crowd of sixth and seventh year students.

Today was the twelfth week of the program; the Apparition exam. A few unlucky of-age sixth year students had not succeeded convincingly, or at all, during the past eleven weeks and were either avoiding their peers or watching from outside the Great Hall near Harry, chattering away.

Those participating in the exam were experiencing varying levels of success. Harry could see Hermione concentrating furiously as she Apparated across the Great Hall to her target hoop again and again. He knew she'd pass her test flawlessly and had told her so over the past few weeks, but nevertheless she'd turned up to each lesson and worked more meticulously than anyone, earning Twycross's favour.

Before her, Susan had passed her test easily. Hannah, too, succeeded. She had become intensely focused during the DA and these lessons, sometimes scarily so.

_It's not you she blames anymore, Harry. It's herself she blames._

Susan's words still bothered him.

That kind of guilt was unhealthy. He should know. But what could he do about it? He dealt with Cedric and Sirius mostly on his own. Besides, Susan was there for her. As Susan had said, they were each other's family now. If anyone could help Hannah, it was her and certainly not him.

After several minutes of Apparition, the test was over. It had differed immensely from his own, taken months ago at the French Ministry. Where Harry had been led to a magically enlarged room complete with natural vegetation to act as blockage for line-of-sight, this test was simpler. It was confined to the Great Hall, and obscuring charms cast by the instructor were used to emulate Apparation to places out of line-of-sight.

Soon enough, Hermione approached him, beaming. In her hand was a piece of parchment he figured was her copy of her Apparition licence.

"I passed!"

"What did I tell you?" he replied, pushing all morbid thoughts of Hannah away. Hermione hugged him tightly. When she pulled back, a wry expression graced her features.

"Yes, well, there's always some doubt." She quickly began studying her licence. Behind her, Harry could see Daphne taking her turn. He smiled at her look of irritation at Twycross as the instructor once again reiterated his spiel about successful Apparition.

All the DA members except Luna, Su and Neville were old enough to take their test. Neville had a four month wait ahead of him as Harry would've had Sirius not willed his emancipation. Su was a month too young.

Hermione's voice drew Harry back into conversation. "How did it go?"

He shook his head sadly. "No luck either. I read and reread all of your notes, but I can't find anything that could help us narrow down whom the Parselmouth is."

"I'm sorry, Harry."

Harry tore his eyes away from Daphne beginning her test to look at his long-time friend. "Don't be. It's not your fault. There hasn't been enough study on Parselmouths in general, let alone on a means of detection." For a moment, the two shared eye contact. "Thanks for trying as hard as you did."

That earned him a genuine smile. The pair turned back to watch as Daphne successfully passed.

"Harry..." began Hermione. Harry faced her, noting her troubled expression.

"Hermione?"

"With you away at you-know-where for the break, I've decided to spend mine with my parents."

Following their conversation the previous week, Harry had owled Lupin with the request to spend his break at Grimmuald Place. The day before he had received a positive response, under the condition that Lupin be his minder and went with him wherever Harry may go outside of the Order's safehouse. Initially, he was miffed that he required a minder. But with what Harry hoped to accomplish, he figured Lupin's assistance would prove more beneficial than a nuisance.

Meanwhile, Hermione had owled Dumbledore himself, whom was still absent from the castle more often than not, to demand someone monitor her parents house following Malfoy's threat. Dumbledore had apologised that he could not spare anyone at the time, but had ensured the Order would reinforce the protections around their home and place of work to the best of their ability.

"I so rarely see them during the school year and with what's happened, what you told me Malfoy threatened, and what we're about to begin..." Hermione trailed off, words failing her momentarily. "I want to see them before we leave. I want to ensure their safety."

Harry's expression turned pained. "That sounds like a good idea. I don't want to have what happened to Hannah's parents happen to yours."

"You had no control over their death."

"I know." He did. He understood it. But it still weighed on his mind every so often. "Have you got any idea what you can do?"

"I've done some research..." That was an understatement. Ever since Dumbledore's mixed response, Hermione had once again begun a furious research campaign, this time to protect her parents. Harry had rarely seen her so motivated.

"I have a few ideas," she continued. "There are certain spells and protections I can do. I'm not sure what the Order has done, or how any of my ideas will hold up if my parents are deliberately targeted, but what I've got in mind should help them... "

"Good."

He caught Daphne's eye as she left the Great Hall, Apparition license in hand. She nodded her usual acknowledgement of his presence but continued past without pause. Harry watched her walk out the front doors of the castle, where an owl swooped to her arm. Curious, he watched her untie a letter and then step out of view.

"We should suggest the same to the others," said Harry, forcing himself back into the conversation. "Tell them all to spend time with their families."

"That sounds like a good idea," said Hermione. "We can speak with everyone about it when we meet tomorrow."

The pair fell into silence, watching as a couple students failed their Apparition license, and a few more passed, Ernie among them.

Then, out of the blue, Harry asked, "Am I doing the wrong thing by not telling Hannah about Malfoy?"

Hermione looked uncertain. "I don't know. I think it's wrong to keep the truth from her."

Good old Hermione. Her values were stalwart, and they were something he shared, albeit perhaps not as strictly. He wanted Hannah's help, and while he didn't want to deceive her, how could he tell her that her parents death were ordered as revenge for something he had done?

But if Harry were honest, all else aside, a small, selfish part of him didn't want to tell Hannah because she might blame him again.

"However, I am afraid what she might do if she learns Malfoy is responsible," continued Hermione. Harry didn't miss the conflicted expression on her face. "If she attacks him, we won't be there to protect her."

Hermione glanced his way for a moment, but soon returned her eyes to the Great Hall as Padma stepped forward to begin her test.

If Hannah found out, what would she do? Internalise it? Or would she lash out like she'd verbally done at Harry, or even perhaps physically or magically this time? Harry didn't know her well enough to make a true guess, but he could sort of appreciate her perspective if she did want to attack him, or Malfoy. He understood that anger, after all. It was likely the same he felt over Sirius toward Bellatrix. He still wanted to take her down, alone, with nobody else in harm's way.

But for Hannah, the consequences of a violent response would be dire. Malfoy wasn't a known, wanted Death Eater. It would be viewed as unprovoked from the outside. Not to mention Malfoy would not let an attack on him go without, from his perspective, due penance. That didn't even take into consideration expulsion, criminal charges...

Nor did it take into account a matter of trust between Harry and her, a matter that would become of critical importance in a fortnight. Would she trust him enough to follow...?

Harry shook his head hard, trying to eradicate some of the darker outcomes he'd dreamt up. He knew he was swimming in far too many if's and maybe's.

A final crack of Apparition rang out in the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione watched a nervous Padma be examined by Twycross for any evidence of Splinching. None to be found, he gestured for her to a nearby table where she signed her license, Twycross followed suit, as well as another witness from the Ministry.

"We should tell her," began Harry, coming to a decision, "But maybe not until she's had more time, or after we've dealt with Malfoy ourselves."

"You will tell her, right?" asked Hermione tentatively.

Harry considered how he really felt. "Yeah, I will. She deserves to know, and I have no right to keep it from her. Certainly not after all I've said about others keeping things from me. But I won't tell her now; after she's had more time. If she attacks Malfoy..."

"That would be bad," agreed Hermione. She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet, deep in thought. "Okay, Harry. If you'll tell her, I'll follow your lead on this."

"You'll tell me if you think I'm doing the wrong thing, won't you?"

Hermione shook her head. "I will. I don't like this. I understand it, but I don't like it. Just tell her soon, okay?"

"I will, Hermione." He let out a deep breath. "And, for reference, neither do I."

An uneasy silence ensued. Conflicted, Harry continued to debate internally on what he should do. God, he wanted to tell Hannah, to be straightforwardly honest. But he feared her reaction. Her accusations had hurt him, far more than he'd figured they would, or should.

"That's all of us," said Hermione, filling the void left by Harry's silence. "Only Luna, Su and Neville can't Apparate or legally cast magic outside of Hogwarts."

If dealing with Hannah wasn't enough, here was another issue to somehow be dealt with. With three of their party unable to Apparate or cast magic without drawing significant Ministry attention, they would find themselves enduring great difficulty in keeping a low profile.

"There has to be a way for the three of them to use magic," said Harry for the tenth time that week.

"I've tried, but there's so little information on how exactly the Ministry tracks underage magic." Hermione frowned. The Hogwarts Library had let her down twice now in recent times. "This might be the only secret the Ministry seems to be able to keep."

Harry was about to respond when Padma caught his eye, approaching them. She looked about as pleased as Hermione had.

"Congratulations!" said Harry.

Padma smiled brilliantly at him. "Thank you."

Hermione and Padma shared a similar exchange.

"Did I interrupt something?" asked Padma, looking between the two. "What was with the glum looks a moment ago?"

Hermione shook her head. Harry said, "Nothing new. Hannah. Problems with leaving Hogwarts."

"Ah," replied Padma, and some her happiness fled her face. Harry began to feel lousy for ruining what should be a proud moment for the pair of women by his side.

"It's Parvati's turn," observed Hermione. Padma turned to watch her sister take the test.

The women quickly engaged in a discussion about the test and the finer points of the process of Apparition, which Harry drifted in and out of. His mind was elsewhere. There were so many issues to iron out for all this to work, and that was before they left and began searching for Horcruxes.

With Dumbledore out of the castle so often, there had been no opportunity to further inquire to Horcrux hiding locations. Honestly, Harry wasn't convinced Hermione's idea of outright asking would work without something else having to change. What that needed to be, he didn't know. But whatever it was, it needed to happen sooner rather than later.

Parvati soon emerged from the Great Hall to a once again cheerful Padma. The sisters shared an embrace. Harry kept watch out of the corner of his eye, though he had to admit to himself that he might've been seeing things after their reconciliation in the Room of Requirement. Parvati appeared genuine, and she was even a little less frosty towards him than she had been beforehand. That may have only extend to giving him the time of day and nothing more, however it was progress.

Harry's thoughts quickly circled back to the dilemma about Hannah. His frown caught the eye of Hermione, who gave him a look. Harry rolled his eyes. He knew that look, that one that told him to stop over-thinking things.

He stopped leaning against the wall and addressed the three women with him. Padma and Parvati looked in his direction as he did.

"Come on," he said, "Let's go and celebrate."

-x-x-x-x-x-

As the final days ticked down toward the Easter break, Harry grew increasingly restless.

Hannah's parents dying had drastically altered his perspective on the events of the last term. He had been idle, if he were completely honest. Yes, he'd been learning, mastering magic, but that drive that been within him at the start of the year had vanished underneath a layer of comfort, of routine.

Now, however, that drive was back, and Harry was struggling to contain the desire to _do something_. As insensitive it may have sounded if he voiced his thoughts aloud, the tragedy visited upon Hannah was a wakeup call. He couldn't remain idle any longer.

When he mentioned how restless he was to Hermione, she was concerned.

"I think I understand how you must be feeling, Harry, but you can't let this cloud your judgment."

There may have been some merit to her concern. He could recognise this well enough to rein in his drive as best he could. He knew he needed to be patient a little longer.

The days passed slowly, and finally Thursday night arrived, the final DA meeting of the term. The group assembled in the Room of Requirement as always. Spread out over the enormous space they had to work with, they duelled in various manners – one on one, two on one, two on two.

Harry was watching the others work, watching them try to master all that they had learned over the past six and a half months. If any of his duels since this group had formed had taught him anything, what he had learned here was all well and good here, but out in the field it may not be second nature. However, with practice all that McGonagall and Flitwick had taught him was reaching that point. That's what they needed. After all, duels could be over in seconds. They needed every edge.

Just from watching each of them, Harry could see the improvement. Each of them was faster, making better spell choices, becoming more confident in their abilities. While they still lacked experience in the real world, he felt they were as prepared as they realistically could be.

"Alright everyone, that's enough," Harry called out and within moments the duels came to halt. All of them were tired and weary from exerting themselves. They utilised the powers of the room to create themselves places to sit.

Once they were all seated, Harry stood before them, trying to formulate in his mind what he wanted to say.

"Good work everyone," he began. "Really, good work. We've really come a long way since we started this. It's hard to believe when you think about it. We barely –"

"–Stop being sappy, Potter," cut in Daphne.

"Oh shush, Daphne," said Susan, giving her a glare. She then gestured at Harry. "We know you're grateful, too. You wouldn't have improved half as much this year without Harry."

"We are, you know," said Padma with a smile. "Grateful."

"Damn right we are," added Neville for good measure.

"Oh Merlin..." muttered Daphne, shaking her head in disgust.

Harry laughed.

"Thank you, you guys. I'll skip to the point for Daphne's sake."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _Here we go._

"The Easter break begins the day after tomorrow." Harry said calmly. "When we return on Sunday week, I believe we won't be here any longer than a week more."

"A week?" repeated Ernie, surprised. A week wasn't a long time in the scheme of things.

"There will be a few more things to take care of here at Hogwarts before we leave, providing all goes well over the break, and those shouldn't even take that long." Harry examined the other members, his friends... soon to be comrades, even. "What I'm saying is that when you return, there won't be much time left. I believe that if you have any affairs to sort out before we leave do them soon. Once we walk out the Entrance Hall, once we walk out the gates of Hogwarts, I don't imagine we will return for a long time."

For a moment, he let that sink in.

"If you need to take care of your family, do it during the next week. For any friends at Hogwarts that you are leaving behind, try and think of something to say, a reason for why you will be leaving. Tell them something nice, that they matter to you, whatever you can think of. We probably won't see them for a long time either."

Susan cast her eyes downward, Ernie as well. No doubt the hardest part for some, something Harry had been too afraid to ask, was the effect his group had on the friendships outside of those present. The sacrifices some were making for this effort didn't pass unnoticed. Harry hoped that his, and the others, companionship could make up for it.

"We've been coming toward this for awhile now, and we're almost there, "continued Harry determinedly. "Once I've found somewhere for us to stay and done everything I can to ensure it's protected, we'll move on Malfoy. Once we've stopped what plan Voldemort gave him, I think we have accomplished all we can here. Then, we will leave and pursue his Horcruxes."

For the final time, Harry examined each of the faces of those before him, searching intently for insights into their thoughts. Now that the moment was almost here, would any falter? Would Hannah, following her loss? Susan would stay if that were so. Ernie? He was still an unknown. Even now, he looked ill. But he'd turned up without fail to every meeting of both incarnations of the DA.

Daphne stood up, disturbing the aftermath of Harry's announcement. "If that's all, Potter, I will be off. The next meeting will be on the Sunday night, correct?"

"Eight pm," confirmed Harry.

She nodded and stepped off toward the exit. The door shut with a click behind her.

"Nothing ever seems to faze her," remarked Padma. "I'm a tiny bit envious of that."

Harry didn't respond. He had seen her fazed by events once before, in the Hospital Wing after she had been attacked by her housemates. The promise she'd asked from him had been kept: nobody knew of their conversation about her family, or how badly she had been hurt, even somewhat shaken by the event.

"Two weeks left."

Everyone turned to Ernie. His expression was pained.

"Are you alright?" asked Susan. She sat closest to him, on his right.

He steadfastly looked at the floor around Harry's feet. "Yes, fine, thank you. Two weeks left, correct? Very well. I shall be off, too. Goodnight all."

His movements stiff, Ernie rose from his seat and walked off out of the Room. For several moments, nobody spoke, perhaps all considering whether Ernie would follow through or not.

"Oh shoot," said Hermione suddenly. She reached into her robes and pulled out some folded pieces of parchment. "I forgot to give these to them both."

"What are they?" asked Padma, gladly moving on to another topic.

"Here, take one, pass it along."

Padma did so, and soon everyone had one except Harry. He suspected he knew what this was already though.

"Protections?" questioned Neville. "I recognise a few that we have at my gran's."

"These are some of the best of the best protections available according to what I have researched," elaborated Hermione. "I think it is wise for us to learn them. Some of us can use them on our houses, to protect our families, especially if you are anything like my situation and have little of it."

Padma by this time had read and folded up her parchment once more. She was contemplative for a moment, and then spared a glance in the direction of Hannah. Harry and Hermione weren't the only ones to notice or make the connection. The research came a little too late for her.

Feeling the atmosphere changing for the worse, Hermione continued, "Otherwise, knowing these for the future may be valuable."

"Our house is protected by three Umgubular Slashkilters," said Luna loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "After Daddy learned that one was protecting Minister Fudge, he went on a trip and found three and convinced them to protect us in exchange for a lifetime's supply of pond scum. It acts as an intoxicant to them, you know. But thank you for the thought, Hermione."

"Uh, Luna..." began Hermione, but then thought twice and just said, "You're welcome."

Harry, used to this by now, brushed it off and stood up, addressing the group once more. "Okay everyone, that's all for today. Enjoy your breaks, and we'll meet up again on the other side. Goodnight."

The meeting dismissed, the group parted ways. However, Padma approached Harry instead of leaving.

"Can I have a word?"

"Of course," replied Harry. He turned to Hermione, who as always waited with him until everyone had left. "I'll catch up with you in the common room, okay?"

Hermione nodded in response, giving the pair of them an inscrutable look. She came to some conclusion quickly enough and left them alone.

Once the door had closed for the last time, Padma sighed deeply, turned and sat exhaustedly back in her chair. Harry followed her and sat across from her, leaning forward.

"What's wrong?"

"I received a reply from Father the other night." Padma revealed after a moments' silence.

Harry started to say something, but stopped himself. If Mr. Patil had allowed his daughters' to remain at Hogwarts for another semester Padma wouldn't be acting like this, would she?

Licking his lips, he asked the obvious question, "What did he say?"

Padma shook her head. "Father wants to talk to us in person about this. He and _she_ are moving well before the next term ends. He wants us to be moving all together."

Harry didn't say anything. This time, however, Padma noticed the hesitation.

"Everything will be fine, Harry."

He raised his eyebrows. "You'll forgive me for being a little sceptical given the evidence in front of my eyes."

"We will be back." Padma leaned forward, quite close to him, met his gaze, and repeated herself. "We will be back. I believe that Parvati and I united can convince him. He is a good man, a nice man, and we are safe _here_ at Hogwarts, or at least as safe as anywhere in the United Kingdom. But I hate what I will have to do to accomplish that."

"What do you mean?"

Padma's expression turned sour. "I've never really lied to Father about anything. If there were a way to tell him everything, I would. But for him to accept me coming back and going with you? A foolish thought."

Once upon a time, Mrs. Weasley would have been the person in Harry's life that he'd have to lie to like Padma's father. However, the events of the previous two semesters had removed her from that surrogate role forever. But thinking back, asking her something like this, he could agree that there was no way he would be allowed. No loving parent would allow their child to walk into danger let alone the way they would be.

"I've struggled to decide what I can say," continued Padma. "What scares me a little is that I believe our cause is righteous enough to lie to Father. I've never been able to justify myself like that."

Unsure again, as he often was, Harry placed a hand on her knee and gently squeezed it, trying to convey his sympathies and support. He didn't really understand how difficult this was for her, but he understood enough. She was going against her morals for him.

Padma smiled briefly at him and placed her hand on his, squeezing back. "Sorry that I keep placing this on you. I spoken with Su about this a lot, but I felt you should know where I stood before we leave."

"It's okay," said Harry immediately. A little embarrassed, he added, "I like that you trust me enough to tell me everything you do."

Her smile became more genuine. Nearly a minute passed before the moment dissolved on its own. Padma let Harry's hand go, and he took it back, the pair dropping their gazes in the process.

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts, pushing aside ones on how nice her smile was to deal with another time. "When this is all over, Padma, I'll speak to your father and apologise to him. You are lying for my sake."

Padma laughed. "That isn't necessary. I'm sure every child lies to their parents on a regular basis. I'm likely the abnormal one here." She closed her eyes, and opened them slowly, meeting his gaze once more. "But thank you for the thought."

"No problem."

The pair shared a smile.

"We should probably go, it's getting quite late."

"Just think, Harry," began Padma as she stood. Her tone was light and expression suddenly full of mischief. "When we're out of Hogwarts, we can stay up as late as we want. No supervision, nothing. This is going to be interesting."

Harry laughed, not entirely certain what she was thinking. But that was okay. He had to admit, it was kind of exciting thinking of things in that light. No supervision. They could do whatever they wanted.

"But for now, we still have class in the morning, so let's go," he said, standing.

"Killjoy," said Padma. She reached out and hugged Harry tightly.

"Two weeks," she whispered in his ear.

"Two weeks," repeated Harry solemnly.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hogsmeade Station for most of the year was empty of people. But come the beginning and end of every semester at Hogwarts, the tiny station would become a hub of raucous teenagers.

The only difference this year was the amount of parents picking up students from Hogsmeade Station. Rather than waiting until Kings Cross, many parents opted to pick up their children directly out of the school.

"The trip back to London might be quiet this year," called back Neville, ducking passed the seventh parent waiting for their child since entering the station. "There have always been two or three students who would prefer to avoid the train ride for holidays, but this must be unprecedented."

"Sorry I won't be with you guys," shouted Harry, trying to keep up with Neville amidst the swarm of students. "I should've suggested Lupin meet me at Kings Cross."

"It's alright, Harry," replied Hermione, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. She had a hand grasped firmly on the back of his shirt so they wouldn't get separated, but the noise was drowning her voice out. "Neville and I will be fine. We'll find the others soon enough. You concentrate on finding us somewhere to stay."

Harry chuckled a little at the thought. House hunting? How ludicrous did that sound?

But that wasn't all Harry hoped to accomplish with his time at Grimmauld Place.

The idea of proving himself to Dumbledore – and really, to himself – that he was ready to tackle the challenges ahead had taken hold over the past fortnight. If there was some way to achieve that, it would be at the heart of the Order.

"Oof," exclaimed Harry a moment later, having collided with someone. He stumbled back into Hermione, who let out a noise of surprise. "Sorry," he said automatically.

"Not your fault," said Hermione, "but you are on my toe."

Harry stepped forward and apologised again. Taking a quick look around, he noted that whoever had collided with him had chosen not to stop. Shrugging it off, Harry took a step forward after Neville who hadn't noticed he'd lost his friends.

"I swear it wasn't this busy at Christmas," remarked Harry.

"Think about it," replied Hermione, once again keeping him literally within arm's reach. "Every month Voldemort seems to be making a new attack. Fear of him is growing as more time passes without the Ministry making progress against him. You've seen parents taking their children home after each new attack. How many are we at now? Twenty-three? Every parent is working under the idea that their children will be home safe for the holidays."

"Then there are the rumours in the _Prophet_ about how there won't be as many Aurors stationed on the train as there were for the Christmas holidays." Hermione paused for a moment. "I think they're being spread too thin on potential targets. With less Aurors guarding the Express, parents are going to be less willing to risk it, even if the train ride is tradition."

Through the crowd, Harry spotted Neville in the distance looking back in their direction. Now with a target, Harry pushed through a bit more quickly, and almost stepped on something lying on the ground in the process.

Something long, thin, and _moving_.

Startled, Harry stopped in his tracks causing another collision with Hermione. He struggled not to step on the... whatever it was. A snake?

"Harry," began Hermione a tad impatiently. "Why did you stop?"

But Harry wasn't listening. There was something in the background, drowning out the clamour of hundreds of students in the station. It was faint, but he could definitely hear it – hissing.

"Harry," said Hermione again.

He reached back and put his hand up, the signal to stop. The hissing was faint, very faint, but it was definitely saying something, something he couldn't quite catch.

Harry tentatively stepped closer to the snake, trying to make clear what was being said. However, when he bent down to get even closer, the hissing grew quieter. Confused, he stood up again, and the hissing once again grew louder, as incomprehensible as ever.

_But if it isn't coming from the snake...?_

The snake, if it was a snake, slithered out of sight through a group of students. None of them seemed to notice it. No exclamations of surprise or fear.

Harry tore his eyes away from the path of the snake to take in the crowd around him. He searched the faces, trying to see who was there, trying to narrow down who it could be. For if the snake wasn't the source of the hissing, Harry considered, then the second Parselmouth must be nearby.

There were some familiar faces – Dean, Demelza, Anthony Goldstein standing next to his parents, that girl he'd run into, Megan Jones, a Hufflepuff named Kevin something – and many younger year students he'd barely looked at. But there were dozens of people within twenty metres of him. Far too many possibilities.

A few moments passed and then the hissing too was gone. Like a light being switched on, the full noise of those around him returned.

"Harry?" Hermione was calling him, her tone concerned.

"Did you see that?" he asked, turning to face her. "Hear that?"

"See or hear what?" A look of complete puzzlement crossed her face.

Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his head, a headache forming. Okay, Hermione didn't see the snake or hear the hissing, but that didn't mean anything. Neither she nor Ron had heard the Basilisk when he had clearly heard it travelling through the pipes in their second year.

What did that mean? Was there just a snake slithering around the station and his ability to speak Parseltongue was reacting to it? Somehow, Harry didn't think so. Something else was in play here. No, it had to have been the second Parselmouth. But with so people around, how could he figure out who it was?

"I'll tell you later," said Harry, realising how fruitless it would be to pursue this any further amidst the hundreds of people around. "Let's catch up to Neville."

Hermione gave him a concerned look, but followed him when he took off.

Even so, Harry had to wonder what the Parselmouth was playing at. What was their game?

"There you are," said Neville, relieved, once they'd reunited. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I looked back and you suddenly weren't there."

"Not to worry, we're here. Let's find you both somewhere to put your belongings. I've still got another few minutes before Lupin said he'd meet me."

Neville and Hermione stepped over to one of middle carriages and climbed aboard. As Harry followed suit, he turned to look back over the crowd.

Whoever the second Parselmouth was, they were likely a student. If so, that student was out there in that crowd. Somehow, someway, he'd find out who it was and what their reason for destroying all trace of the Basilisk was. If he were right, then also why all the chervil had been stolen from the greenhouses.

Putting those thoughts on the backburner, he followed his friends inside. He found them in the second compartment down sitting with Luna, who was once again deeply ensconced within a copy of her fathers' paper.

"Morning, Luna."

"Good morning, Harry," she replied without looking up.

"I hope you guys enjoy the trip," said Harry as he watched Hermione re-enlarge her trunk and remove a rather large tome without a title on the front. "It's strange to not be joining you."

"We'll make the most of it," said Neville, taking a seat next to Luna, across from Hermione. "After all, we'll only have the trip back in a weeks' time. No more Hogwarts Express."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," said a familiar voice from behind Harry. He stepped aside from the doorway and Padma stepped into the compartment. "That's a bit of a sad notion."

A quick round of greetings followed her arrival.

"Alright, I should go," said Harry after checking his watch. "Be safe. I'll see you in a bit over a week."

"Take care, Harry," said Padma, who gave him a quick hug.

Hermione watched for a moment, then stood up and did the same, squeezing tightly. "Be careful, Harry," she whispered.

"I will," he replied, letting her go.

"Harry," said Neville, rising to shake his hand, "best of luck out there. Owl us if you need anything."

"I will," he repeated. He turned to Luna. "See you."

Luna didn't give a response. In fact, the only thing she did was turn a page. A little disappointed, he turned to leave. It was then Luna spoke up.

What she said sent a shiver down his spine.

"I wouldn't trust everything you see."

He turned around to look at her, but she still seemed completely absorbed in _The Quibbler_. Glancing at the other three he saw them share confused looks.

Luna didn't just spout only what sounded like nonsense. Harry knew that, having spent a fair amount of time with her. Sometimes what she said was incredibly insightful. Did she know what he may have seen and heard?

"Oh, Harry, you're still here." Luna blinked at him, her expression of surprise. "Isn't Mr. Lupin going to be waiting? Go on. Shoo!"

_What?_

Did she not realise what she said? Or was this deliberate?

Either way, Harry was left with more questions than he wanted out of this farewell. All the issues he had plagued his thoughts as he exited the train and made his way back towards Hogwarts. The meeting spot was to be just outside the station, away from the enormous crowd.

Before his jumbled thoughts could get anywhere constructive, he spotted Lupin waiting patiently at the junction of the road leading to Hogwarts and around the lake to Hogsmeade. At first glance, he appeared to be much the same. But as Harry grew closer, he noticed the finer points.

Lupin's face looked less weary than in recent times, the lines of his face not absent but less pronounced. He was still pale and maybe a little peaky, but he wore a smile. His robes were not the shabbier, second-hand ones he frequently wore, but in fact fairly new and of a higher quality. His shoes were worn, but shiny. They were little things. However, clearly some of the money he had been given from Sirius had been used.

"Professor, you're looking well."

"Thank you, Harry. You are too."

Harry stepped forward to stand by his side, and he noticed how similar their heights were. He had really grown in the last three years.

"How are we getting to London?"

Lupin turned and the two started walking down towards Hogsmeade. The road from the station was dirt, wide enough to accommodate multiple thestrals and their carriages side by side. Trees towered over the road, causing large patches of shadows, giving it the feel of an old-fashioned country lane.

"Albus informed me you are now in possession of an Apparition Licence?"

"I am."

"Congratulations, Harry," said Lupin with complete sincerity. "Apparition Licences are considered by many as a sort of rite of passage. Your parents would be proud of you achieving yours before you seventeenth birthday."

Harry wasn't certain, but he could've sworn there was a bit of pride in his voice.

"Thank you," he replied. "Does that mean...?"

"Indeed it does," said Lupin. "It is quite a walk to the designated Apparition zone. However, I felt we could use this time to quickly reacquaint ourselves with each other."

Harry nodded in agreement. But his thoughts focused on something Lupin had mentioned that he hadn't had the chance to discuss with anyone outside his group.

"What do you think about the Anti-Apparition zone over Hogsmeade?"

Lupin took a moment to respond. "The Ministry believes it will limit the potential that Voldemort will strike the village."

"Is that the case?"

"Yes and no," replied Lupin after a beat. "It has caused a great level of inconvenience to people who live in the area and commute, but the Apparition zone is guarded well by Aurors. With the barrier extending well passed the outskirts of the village, any attack will be significantly hampered."

Harry sensed a 'but' coming.

Lupin sighed. "But if Voldemort truly wants to attack the village, the number of Aurors stationed there won't be anywhere near enough."

There it was – the unbridled truth of the matter. If Voldemort wanted to attack somewhere bad enough, he could.

That statement hung in the air for a long minute. Harry and Lupin continued their steady pace along the path, now beginning to near the other side of the lake.

"What about London?" Harry asked. "What's happening there?"

Lupin sighed a second time. "Most of London has been spared of any sort of threat so far. However, the fog the Dementors create is spreading bit by bit over the southern suburbs. Their breeding area is growing, and we have indeed seen larger numbers of them at sights of attacks. But..."

_More Dementors is the last thing we need_, thought Harry.

"But there haven't been many instances of Kiss victims in the area," continued Lupin. "In fact, the only noticeable change the Order has noticed is an increase in automobile crashes."

"What are the Dementors doing if they aren't attacking anyone except during Death Eater attacks?" asked Harry.

"We have no idea," admitted Lupin.

Harry was quiet for a moment, absorbing that piece of information.

"What's Scrimgeour doing from the Ministry end?"

"The Minister believes that by defending high-value targets, he will protect the most people." Lupin grimaced. "He inherited a bad situation from Cornelius Fudge and I don't envy him."

"But that's not working, is it?" asked Harry, thinking about the half a dozen articles on Death Eater attacks in the _Prophet_ over the last six months. "Voldemort isn't attacking Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, or anything like that. He's attacking Auror outposts, not civilian targets. These attacks are more..." He struggled to find the right word.

"...calculated," finished Lupin. He turned and surveyed Harry for a moment. "Yes, he's targeting particular locations. Many Order members agree with you. From what we've been able to piece together, Voldemort is paving the way for something bigger. These attacks on the Aurors may, from our speculation, have twofold purpose. The first is to thin out the Auror ranks, which is being accomplished quite successfully. The second is to train new recruits in the preferred style of assault." Lupin sighed. "But if we're honest, Voldemort's plan is still a complete unknown to us."

That was troubling. The Order spent a great deal of effort to gather information to combat Voldemort, and if they knew nothing then they really were going to be unprepared when the storm finally hit.

The path crested and offered a picturesque view of the only full wizarding town in the UK. The village looked so serene, completely dissociated from the turmoil that was brewing in the nation.

Lupin slowed to a halt. Harry stopped a few steps after and turned to face him, curious.

"You can tell I have been very candid with you, Harry," said Lupin.

Indeed he had. Harry had not expected information or answers as readily as he had received them. 

"Now you are recognised as of age, I believe you have every right to know everything within the Order that is available to every member and I aim to do that for you. I hope you can show me the same courtesy in return." A beat, and then, "Why did you ask to stay at Grimmauld Place these holidays?"

Here it was, the moment where Harry had to decide to trust Lupin or not. Truthfully, it had come a lot quicker than expected. But Lupin had clearly considered this day extensively enough to risk giving away information the Order have previously kept secret from him to try and earn his trust.

Did that make him trustworthy? No, not in itself it didn't. But when had Lupin shown himself untrustworthy?

That was enough. Hermione seemed to believe in him, and if Harry was honest, he did too.

Or perhaps he just wanted to.

Nevertheless, he made the decision.

"I need your help, Professor."

"It's Remus, Harry, or at least call me by my last name," interrupted Lupin. "It's been years now since I have taught you anything."

"Lupin, in that case, I need your help, but I need you to keep it quiet from everyone else for now." Harry stared down the only link to his parents he still had. "I know this is asking a lot on faith, but I need to know if you can do this before I tell you."

Lupin went through a number of facial expressions as he considered his response. For several seconds Harry thought he would decline. But then...

"I will trust you."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I promise to try not to force you to keep too many secrets."

"Some promises are difficult to keep, Harry," said Lupin softly. "It is sometimes best not to make those."

A little confused at what that was meant to mean, Harry turned away to face the town again. Rows of houses of all sorts of shapes and sizes spread before him, lining the busy streets and walkways. Smoke rose from chimneys on the rooftops of almost every building. It really was a lovely sight, especially when covered in snow. He was going to miss it when he left Hogwarts.

Several sets of voices drifted toward the pair. Other students and their families must've been catching up.

"I will tell you when we arrive," said Harry without turning back. "This may take a bit of time to explain."

-x-x-x-x-x-

The only aesthetic difference inside Grimmauld Place from Harry's last visit at Christmas over a year prior was the abundance of dust. Molly Weasley mustn't have spent much time in the ancient house over the last few months. Harry couldn't imagine her letting the place grow so dusty if she'd spent much time here.

Everything else seemed to be the same. The troll leg umbrella stand still sat by the door, currently housing two umbrellas. A curtain still covered the portrait of Mrs. Black, who was thankfully asleep and stayed as such as Harry and Lupin moved upstairs to the bedrooms. As he passed it, the library was still empty and unused. The bedrooms were barren and not entirely welcoming.

Really, there was little different except for the quiet. There had always been something happening at Grimmauld Place, whether it was the Weasley twins up to mischief or Order members coming and going at odd hours. But for the time being, however, the house was silent except for the sounds he and his companion made. The house simply felt empty and lifeless. Harry could understand how hellish this must've been for Sirius even without horrible memories of a childhood within the walls to haunt his thoughts.

Lupin showed Harry to the bedroom he stayed in before his fifth year. Back then, Harry reflected briefly as he entered the room, Ron had been staying with him. But that was a different time.

Harry removed his trunk from his pocket, placed it on one of the beds and tapped it once with his wand, cancelling the Shrinking Charm. Instantly, the trunk resized and the old bed groaned under the strain. With a few quick waves, his clothes jumped to life, floating across the room to find appropriate homes in the wardrobe.

That done, Harry turned around to see an impressed Lupin watching him.

"Silent casting is not an easy feat, and certainly not with such ease for someone your age." Lupin contemplated for a moment. "You have learned more than I expected."

Harry smiled, but it didn't last. "I've been working harder than ever this year." He paused for a moment. Then, "That leads into what we need to discuss. If we are alone in the house, then let's sit downstairs. I recommend you make yourself some tea before we start. You may need it."

Still patient, Lupin acquiesced and led the way to the kitchen, another room largely unchanged. However, here more than anywhere else, Harry felt the absence of Sirius Black. Harry had spent more hours with his godfather in the dining room than any other place in the world. Sighing, he took a seat and waited while Lupin prepared himself some tea.

He and Hermione had discussed at length how much to tell Lupin. There was no question that Lupin didn't need to know everything. But what did he need to know? What did he deserve to know?

Lupin emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a teapot with the Black family emblem on it and two cups. Only a few items with the family emblem survived both the original purge and Mundungus's thefts. This was one of them.

"No thanks," said Harry in response to Lupin's offer of a cuppa. Lupin poured himself one, blew on it for a moment and started sipping.

Once he returned the cup to the table, he met Harry's eyes. "Alright, Harry. Talk to me."

Harry did. He told him what happened over the summer, how he gradually got over his guilt and resolved to do more, how the idea of the DA came, how it was put into practice, and finally that he felt it was time to leave Hogwarts.

"Harry –"

"– Listen, Lupin, I understand you're going to disagree with me on this, but hear me out," interrupted Harry, raising his hand up. "I've spent more hours thinking about this than anything else over the last seven months. Sitting in classes at Hogwarts isn't helping anymore. Without meaning to sound arrogant, I'm well ahead of everyone I know. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick have taught me well. From their own mouths I've learnt as much as I'm going to at Hogwarts outside of deep research. I can handle myself now. Believe me on that."

"Even so, going off on your own with a bunch of teenagers is not something I can simply agree to and support." Lupin started to pour himself more tea, only to find he'd already drunk it all. Putting down the teapot, he leaned forward on the table and said in a low voice, "It's dangerous and foolish. You are putting yourself in harm's way for what reason exactly?"

"To defeat Voldemort," replied Harry. "He's targeted me my whole life. He isn't going to stop while I am alive, and I'm not going to wait for him to come find me."

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "So you'll walk into his hands instead?"

"This isn't some kind of suicide mission." Harry frowned. "Yes, Voldemort killed my parents, and yes, he's responsible for Cedric and Sirius, too. That doesn't mean I want to die either."

"Then keep yourself safe."

"Nobody is safe as long as he is out there."

Lupin didn't say anything.

"I'll say this once," continued Harry in a tone far colder than he'd used thus far. "Voldemort is a danger to me and everyone I care about. He's powerful, almost as powerful as Dumbledore is and he can be frightening when he's pushed."

He took a breath, and when he next spoke he was resolute, "However – and this is crucial – I am _not_ willing to let Voldemort destroy anything and everything he chooses to when I know in my heart that I can make a difference. So I'm going to do what I can to stop him in my own way. I won't sit back and waste my time in classes when I know I can do something to help stop this."

"But–"

"–There are no buts. I'm asking for your assistance, not your blessing. I made my decision on this a long time ago," cut in Harry, not letting Lupin a word in edgewise. "You can't change my mind. I will do this with or without your help."

"How, Harry?" asked Lupin, and this time his voice took on a more exasperated note. "How can you make a difference by putting yourself at risk? Not to mention these other kids you're taking with you."

Harry frowned at his friends being brought into this. It was a legitimate question from Lupin's perspective, he knew, and his own doubts and fears wondered in this territory often. However...

"I've warned my friends a number of times on what they may and will face," replied Harry. "Almost all are of age now. They can and will make their own decisions."

"You will forgive me for thinking they underestimate the reality."

Harry traded a long look with Lupin. Harry knew he meant well, and that convincing him was never going to be an easy task, but what would it take? How could he say that he understood what was ahead of him and why he thought he could make a difference without mentioning the prophecy?

"My memories of the graveyard and the Department of Mysteries gave them as good an introduction as I could."

That seemed to surprise Lupin. "You showed them your memories?"

"I did, and I don't regret it." Harry sat back in his chair. "They needed to know."

Lupin frowned. "If you needed to show memories, then that means there are people in this group of yours outside of the six of you who went to the Ministry last year."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry, I trust you to keep what I've said to yourself, but who exactly is involved is not really relevant to whether or not you'll help me."

The debate dropped off for a long minute as both sides contemplated what else they could say to sway the other. Lupin stood up and made his way to the kitchen, the teapot hand. The whine of a boiling kettle soon followed.

Not two minutes later, Lupin returned and poured himself another cup of tea. After a few sips, Lupin met Harry's eyes again.

"Two things," he began. "Firstly, why must you pursue this with teenagers and not the Order?"

Harry turned away. "I don't trust the Order to have my best interests at heart, or allow me the freedom to accomplish what I want."

Lupin stared. "Why in the name of Merlin do you think that?"

"They follow Dumbledore's word to the letter," said Harry. "Don't misunderstand me. What the Order is doing is important and I praise them for it. There are good people in there. But when it comes down to it they'll listen and obey anything Dumbledore asks of them even if that means betraying me or interfering with what I need to accomplish. Not to mention how vital secrecy is."

A stunned silence followed.

Lupin gathered himself and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry waved his hand in a dismissal. "That topic is over. What was the second thing?"

"Let's say for a minute I accept what you are doing. You still haven't told me what you want from me."

Harry leaned forward, taking this as a sign that Lupin was closer to a yes than a no. "What I want from you, for now at least, is to help me find somewhere for me and my group to stay. I haven't the foggiest how to buy a house and I could use help on that."

Sceptical, Lupin said, "That doesn't sound like enough to risk me telling Albus and the Order everything."

"Indeed," agreed Harry. "After I leave Hogwarts, there may be a lot of things I need help with. I doubt I could even imagine most of them, but having someone in the Order, someone who could communicate between us, would be helpful."

Lupin asked the obvious question, "Why would you need a go-between?"

Harry sighed. "I doubt Dumbledore will be overly pleased by what I am doing. However, I'm not foolish enough to believe that I won't need his or the Order's help along the way."

"Meeting with me would be the neutral ground," concluded Lupin.

"Basically, yes." Harry shifted in his seat. "Honestly, I want to know that if it comes down to it, if I need you, I can count on you to not have any ulterior motives when helping me. You won't try to convince me to return to Hogwarts, and you won't lead Dumbledore or any of the Order to my doorstep with the same intention."

At that, Lupin went deep into thought, leaving Harry wishing for insight into the mind of his remaining family friend. The tea gradually disappeared again. Harry briefly wondered how the man didn't need the bathroom yet.

"I'm sorry, I need more time to consider this," said Lupin at last. "I want to help you, I do. But I can't in good conscience agree to let you put yourself and other students in such danger."

Harry's heart sank a little. While he hadn't really expected Lupin to immediately agree and to begin house hunting together by lunchtime, he was disappointed.

"I understand," said Harry. He did, really he did. But he didn't like it.

There was a lot of that going on lately.

"I will keep my promise," continued Lupin. "I won't tell a soul."

"Thank you."

With that, Lupin rose and returned to the kitchen, leaving Harry alone to contemplate what next.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Order members began trickling in around lunchtime. There were a few familiar faces, such as Dedalus Diggle (who was frighteningly enthusiastic to see Harry and spent much of his meal talking Harry's ear off), but the majority were new to him. As soon as he could, Harry left the Order members to themselves and ventured to the topmost floor to visit a place he felt he had to.

Sirius's bedroom was in much the same state as the rest of the house: unused and unclean. A queen sized bed with an intricately carved headboard took up a large portion of the room, though there was plenty of room to move around it. A clean and empty fireplace sat directly across from the bed. A large, wooden desk covered in papers, quills, ink vials and other detritus sat in front of a tall window on the far wall. Long, grey curtains pulled across the window, allowing through only a thin angle of light. A wooden chair with a tall back sat before the desk. To the side was a half-full bookshelf, the titles mostly faded except for a few Muggle novels, of all things. Next to it was a wooden wardrobe. Finally, a pair of nightstands with old-fashioned oil lamps was on either side of the large bed. The musty smell of a long unused room pervaded the space.

Harry stood in the doorway taking in all the details, including the personalised nameplate on the inside of the door. This was where Sirius had lived a large amount of his childhood until he'd run away. But it didn't_ feel_ personal, much like his room at the Dursley's. This wasn't a happy place for Sirius.

As he stepped into the room, a floorboard creaked under Harry's feet. Slower now, he crossed to the window, taking a look outside. Harry raised an eyebrow at the charmed window showing a magnificent aerial view of the Thames and central London. Perhaps it had been a favourite sight of Sirius' while on his motorbike.

Turning back, Harry shifted his attention to the desk. During a quick examination of the contents, nothing immediately grabbed his attention. He sat down and began opening some of the drawers. More seemingly meaningless papers littered the top drawer, but the second proved more interesting. Inside were letters, old ones. The top one was from a women Harry gathered Sirius had dated at Hogwarts. There were no dates, but the letter spoke of times that Harry knew to have happened years ago, and a few other, more personal events. Moving through the contents, Harry finally came across something he was truly interested in: a letter from his father. Beneath it, there were quite a few more of them.

He removed the letters from the drawer and sat down with them on the bed. With some trepidation, he began to read.

Through almost four dozen letters, Harry began to get an idea of how close Sirius and his father had actually been. Sure, he'd been told by Lupin and others that they'd been inseparable, but reading these words his father wrote showed him exactly how close they had been. There were reminiscences of pranks from during their school year, gossip about girls (except for a period of a few months in their fourth year, and the odd agreement that a few other witches had been particularly attractive recently, almost all James ever spoke of on this subject was Lily, something which warmed Harry's heart to read), and even simple notes that must've been passed in class that Sirius had kept.

Other letters, darker ones, littered the collection. From what Harry gathered, Sirius had been owling James about events in his household, how he'd hated it there. James offered on more than one occasion a place to stay in his home, but at the time Sirius hadn't taken up the offer. Nevertheless, there had been a sense of true friendship in these words, complete trust and an unashamed genuine care for each other.

Abruptly, the letters ceased after their fourth year, and Harry found himself disappointed there weren't more. He'd never had anything that his father had written, and the story these letters and notes painted had enraptured him. But despite a careful search of the remaining drawers in the desk (except for one that refused to open, despite throwing all the unlocking spells he knew at it) he turned up no more correspondence with his father.

However, in another drawer were several aged wizarding photographs. The first two were from James and Lily's wedding that Harry had seen in his first Christmas present from Hagrid, but then the next four were new to him. The first was of James in his Quidditch robes. He was young, maybe only twelve or thirteen, but his smile was confident and already showing many signs of the handsome man he would become. The next was of the Marauders together in the Shrieking Shack. Lupin looked pale and sweaty, but nevertheless happy. Harry guessed the photo had been taken around the time of a transformation. James and Sirius had their arms over each other's shoulders, grinning like idiots. Wormtail was in the picture too, a step to the side of James and Sirius. At this age he was already somewhat tubby and quite pale, but by the way his father, Lupin and Sirius were treating him this was a time when they had trusted each other completely. A time before Voldemort.

The next photo was of a girl Harry didn't know. She was maybe fifteen or sixteen, with long black hair and brown eyes. She was smiling at the photographer, a look of pure happiness on her face. Behind her was a familiar sight – it was the view from the Astronomy Tower, though Harry had rarely seen it during the daytime. Confused at the presence of this particular photo, he turned it over to find to a quick note: _Sarah, June 1974._

_A girlfriend?_ Harry wondered.

Putting that one aside, he looked upon the final photo and sucked in his breath at what he saw.

It was Harry. James, Lily, Sirius and Lupin were there as well, but it was of him as a baby riding a toy broomstick. James and Sirius were watching excitedly, cheering and laughing at the glee on the toddlers face as he zoomed in circles half a meter off the ground. Lily stood a bit behind them, her face cycling between disapproving, resigned acceptance, and joy. Lupin stood beside his mother, looking between them all with a real smile he'd rarely seen on the man.

Harry stared at the photo a long time, unsure of how exactly it made him felt. It wasn't that often anymore that he let himself wonder what life would be like if his parents were alive, but there were times.

A creak nearby signified that Harry wasn't alone anymore.

Lupin sat down beside him on the bed and leant forward, elbows on knees.

"I was beginning to wonder if you had left the house."

Harry shook his head, still eyeing the photo. "The conditions were that I only leave Grimmauld if you were with me."

Lupin smiled. "I expect your father would have already ignored that condition and run off to do whatever he wished. With the attitude to rules you sometimes have, I admit to being a little surprised you haven't."

Harry shook his head a second time. "I will if I have to. But it hasn't come to that yet."

A moment passed before Lupin replied. "I suspect I have little chance of stopping you."

It was clear to Harry that the meaning behind that was multilayered.

"You really don't."

Lupin sighed and sat up straighter. "I thought as much."

For several moments the pair sat in silence. Finally, Harry turned to face his companion only to see Lupin watching the photographs with a pained expression.

"Did you know about these?" asked Harry, gesturing to the photos and letters.

"I did."

"Do you know what happened to the rest of their letters? These only seem to go up to the end of your fourth year."

Lupin grimaced. "I suspect that Sirius left these behind when he ran away to live with James. He sealed off this room as he left. Nobody entered here again until Sirius returned a little over eighteen months ago. Not even Kreacher could enter. His parents were not fond of him as you know and they would have destroyed all his possessions and repurposed the room if they could've."

"My guess," continued Lupin after taking a deep breath," is that the rest of their correspondence is at the house Sirius bought after moving out of your father's house. To pre-empt your next question, Harry, I believe that house was sold many years ago by the Ministry. That particular property wasn't protected like the majority of the Black family assets. I doubt if the correspondence had been there it would still exist. The owner would likely have found and disposed of it all."

Harry let his disappointment show. Lupin placed a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"If you are interested, perhaps I could tell you some stories of your parents and Sirius."

"That would be nice," admitted Harry. He really did like the sound of that. Hagrid was the only other to tell him stories of his parents in any detail, but he hadn't known them that well. Lupin would undoubtedly have many more tales to tell.

He stood up and gathered the letters and photos. As he picked up the photos he once again laid eyes on the photo of Sarah. Harry picked up the photo and offered it to Lupin.

"Who is she?"

Lupin reached out and took the photo. For a moment he was silent. Then he whispered to himself, "My word, he still had it?" After a beat, he looked up to see Harry's inquisitive look. "Ah, Harry, this is Sarah Warner. She was a Ravenclaw a year above us."

"Why does he have a photo of her?"

Lupin smiled fondly. "You see, Sirius had an on and off thing for her over the course of several years. He, err, well, dated, though I use that term loosely, a dozen or so others in the meantime, but they always fell through for one reason or other and Sirius would chase after her again. I didn't see this when I was in here a few weeks ago..."

Harry let the man reminisce for a few minutes.

However, he eventually asked, "Did he love her?"

"Nobody but Sirius knows that, I'm afraid." Lupin handed the photo back with a sad expression. "I often spotted him with this photo in our dorm when he thought nobody was around, but he never shared what happened with her in any detail."

Harry took one last look at the photo and returned it to where he'd found it. Sirius had an unrequited love had he? It wasn't a new realisation, but there was plenty he hadn't known about his godfather. Perhaps if he'd ever spoken to him about his relationships, Sirius might've spoken of this.

He watched Lupin cycle through a number of facial expressions, wondering if he'd ever had a special someone in his life. There didn't appear to be now, nor had he ever mentioned anyone.

This train of thought led down a path to some difficult questions, ones he wasn't certain he wanted to ask. But with all this honesty that had characterised their day, Harry decided to go for it.

He sat down beside Lupin, whom was still staring out the window, and spoke a question he'd long wanted to ask.

"The truth is that I don't really know you. You were a friend of my parents, but aside from that connection I know very little about you. Why didn't you ever visit me? Check in to see if I was alright?"

Lupin didn't react to the question at first. But as the seconds passed, he seemed to deflate. When he spoke, his voice was soft, barely audible even in the silence.

"Harry, you must understand that you reminded me of everything I had lost. You still do. Every time I thought of you I felt guilt, unimaginable guilt that I didn't see the betrayal coming, that I hadn't been there to help. And if I'm perfectly honest a little bit of anger."

"Anger?"

At Harry's startled expression, Lupin stood up and rubbed at his head, clearly pained.

"Your parents suspected me for several very long, very painful weeks before their death," he elaborated. He walked over to the empty fireplace and leant on the shelf above it, facing away from Harry. "The Order had a spy. We all knew it. I hadn't done anything different; I hadn't acted out of the ordinary. I was suspected just because I was a werewolf, and it seemed the rest of my kind was in with You-Know-Who."

"That distrust, Harry... It was the worst thing that I'd experienced in my life, worse than Greyback turning me into a monster, worse than anything I had ever felt until I heard your parents had died. James, Sirius and I had been friends since our first year at Hogwarts, and Lily soon afterward. For them to think I had betrayed them... It shattered the trust between us. I stopped visiting, stopped talking to them. I could feel their uncertainty and hesitance whenever we were together. It was too much for me to bear on top of everything else."

"I had been struggling for months to find any employment." Lupin sighed. "A werewolf struggles day to day for any work, even the dangerous jobs that few take on. Nobody trusted werewolves in those days, even the few who had before You-Know-Who's rise. These days are little different, Harry. Most people still don't trust me. Members of the Order are distrustful despite Albus vouching for me. Before he asked me to teach, I hadn't had any work in almost a year. It should come as no surprise why so many of my kind were taken by You-Know-Who and his promises of better lives."

"When I heard where you were placed outside of the wizarding world I was shocked. I thought it would be best for you to grow up where you would belonged, among those who could properly protect you. But I couldn't bring myself to come and take you away." Lupin ran a hand through his thinning hair. "If I had known how your relatives would treat you, I would have taken you and brought you to someone I knew would keep you safe."

"All these years," whispered Harry, "but not even once?"

"Not even once," confirmed Lupin, crossing his arms. "I'm not proud of my cowardice, Harry, nor do I truly feel I have an adequate reason. But I don't know if I entirely regret my choice either." He turned around and faced Harry directly. "Please don't misunderstand me. It's not that I haven't cared about you or wondered how you were or what kind of person you'd become. However, I have spent much of the past decade in deep depression, sometimes barely scraping together enough money to live on. If you had ever thought at some point that I could've given you a home, I can assure you that couldn't have happened. Not with my condition."

Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that. Now he was a few years into the wizarding world, he supposed he could see how unlikely any of the people in power – namely the Ministry – would have let him be cared for by a dark creature.

The guilt on the other hand was something else entirely. Harry wasn't unfamiliar with guilt, but this was a new spin on it. He didn't know where to begin trying to sort through his thoughts. Instead, he decided to trust his gut. Besides, there was little use in wallowing about it all now, right?

"What's done is done," said Harry. "I don't know exactly what happened fifteen years ago, but now is the time if you want to become part of my life. How about we start anew?"

He stood up and approached Lupin whom had adopted a confused expression. Harry put his arm forward in offer of a handshake. Slowly, Lupin unfurled his crossed arms and grasped Harry's. They shook hands.

"Tell me about you, Sirius and my parents."

For the next few hours, time passed quickly as Lupin related a number of stories from his childhood. There were plenty of laughs from Harry at a number of anecdotes about his parents. Upon request, Lupin described some of the less wonderful aspects about them. Consequently, Harry began to get a better, fuller picture of his parents in his mind's eye. No longer were they the perfect pair he'd often been presented with from a number of those that knew them, but they were closer to real people than they'd ever been to him.

"We should probably head down for dinner now," said Lupin into a silence that developed in the wake of so many stories. "But before we do, I have to say that I will help you."

Harry, having lain down on the bed at some point, sat up scarcely believing he'd heard correctly. Truthfully, all thoughts of acquiring Lupin's help had been discarded as he'd learnt more about his parents. But it all came rushing back now.

"Are you sure?"

"Not remotely." Lupin smiled wryly. "I believe you when you say I have no hope of convincing you otherwise, so I will try to help you. I think I want to trust you know what you're doing. Until you give me reason to the contrary, I will."

"Thank you," was all Harry could think to say. Lupin once again placed an arm on Harry's shoulder, this time squeezing tightly.

"Just promise me not to take unnecessary risks. You will be playing with fire. I don't want to lose you as well."

"I know," said Harry. "I promise. Remus."

"Excellent." Remus smiled brilliantly, one akin to the photo Harry had seen earlier, and gave him a slap on the back. "Now, I know I'm rather thirsty after all that talking. Would you care for some tea?"

-x-x-x-x-x-

That night Harry lay in bed sorting out what he'd learned in the past eighteen hours. It seemed hard to believe that he'd been with Hermione and Neville at Hogsmeade Station that morning. Similarly, the confusing events with the snake on the platform, and Luna's odd warning, felt distant, as if it had been days ago. After pondering the subject for ten minutes, Harry felt no closer to any conclusions. He pushed the subject aside for when he'd return to Hogwarts.

It had been too late in the evening when Remus – for Harry felt comfortable enough now to call him that – and Harry had emerged from Sirius's bedroom to begin looking for places for the DA to stay. But with what Harry had achieved that day, namely Remus's support, he was okay with that.

During dinner the only familiar face to Harry was that of Kingsley Shacklebolt. The tall, black Auror stopped by only to drop off a message for Dumbledore that Remus took in his stead. After a few questions, Remus revealed that for the past fortnight he'd been the person stationed at Grimmauld Place to keep an eye on it and receive and deliver messages to their rightful person if the intended recipient were not available. However, he was tight-lipped on the specifics of his other jobs.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, but there's a point where I cannot tell you things." At Harry's raised eyebrow, Remus added, "Many other Order members aren't privileged to the specifics of my missions either, only the results. That applies for everyone else, too, as a measure against spies and loose lips. I doubt you'd be guilty of either in anybody's eyes, but there is an order of things. You aren't being excluded without due cause."

Harry lay awake for some time despite his exhaustion, his mind active. When sleep finally claimed him, he didn't dream.

All too soon Harry woke. He opened his eyes to the sight of a blurry but familiar splash of bubblegum pink above his head.

"Wotcher, Harry," greeted Tonks in a tone far too enthusiastic for his liking.

"Mornin' Tonks," he said through a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Just after six," she replied after checking her watch.

Harry groaned, and then yawned again. "Why are you so chipper at this hour?"

"The life of an Auror," said Tonks with a wide grin. "You get used to odd sleeping hours and being instantly alert pretty quickly. I've been up since half-four. Just passing through and heard from Remus that you're here for the week."

Harry tried to sit up and failed. Only then did he realise that Tonks was on his bed, her knees either side of him and her hands trapping his sheets to the bed. He was effectively stuck.

Somewhat more alert now, he asked, "Err, why are you sitting like that?"

"Oh this," began Tonks in a faux-innocent tone. "I wanted to wake you up in an interesting way."

_Is she... is she flirting with me?_ Harry asked himself. He struggled to free a hand from beneath his sheets. _Ugh, it's too early for this._

Tonks seemed to sense his thoughts as she chose that moment to release him. Harry rolled over and buried his head in his pillow.

"Alright, up you get. Remus told me you have a busy day ahead." She punctuated the order with a smack on his arse.

Harry didn't make a surprised squeak. Men didn't squeak.

Scowling at Tonks as she retreated from his room, laughing all the way, Harry got out of bed and headed for the shower. He grumbled to himself about revenge until the beautiful feeling of warm water hit his face. Then he began to focus on the day ahead.

Over the course of the morning, after visiting a realtor (an experience in of itself), Remus showed Harry five houses in the inner city area. Remus had chosen to focus on the inner city as it would be easiest for him to blend into a crowd of Muggles. Harry agreed, unable to think of any solid counterarguments. All Harry knew to look for was something large enough to accommodate his group. Remus explained that few houses were large enough for ten people to live comfortably, but if they found somewhere large enough then Expansion Charms could do the rest of the work.

Each house varied significantly: from single stories to three, from already furnished to completely bare, from several hundred thousand to over a million pounds. Harry didn't have any idea what he was looking for, though he knew money wasn't a big issue. However, as he stood in each of the houses looking around at the rooms, trying to picture what he was after, his imagination never quite got running. Remus was always positive, giving him time to decide and not swaying his mind one way or another.

"If we budget our time right, I believe we have three days to find something suitable," said Remus after Harry tried to describe how the first two places didn't work for him. "You'll feel something when you find the right place."

Soon enough the lunch hour rolled around. The pair sat down in an inner city cafe, something Remus explained he'd taken a liking to do at least once per week.

The place was charming in its own right. Images covered the walls of cities from around the world (or so Remus explained when Harry asked). The floors were polished wood. The tables and chairs matched the decor suitably. Perhaps three dozen other patrons joined them, their incomprehensible conversations merging into a healthy din.

Harry took in the surroundings with great interest. The Dursley's only took him out to a restaurant once when Mrs. Figg had been unable to babysit Harry when he was six. All he remembered was that his Uncle had ordered him a few pieces of bread while the others had eaten a three course meal. It wasn't a terribly good memory.

The smell of fish from a neighbouring table enticed Harry enough to order it when the waiter had come to take their order. After the man departed, Harry noted once again the clothing Lupin wore. This time he wore a dark button-up shirt and jeans, both new.

"I've noticed you're wearing newer clothes."

Remus put down the glass of water he'd been sipping. "Indeed. You remember the will reading and the stipulation that Sirius added to my share? It took a long time but I went out and bought myself enough to fill a wardrobe. The last time I had a full wardrobe was when I was about twelve. It's a nice change, I'll admit."

Harry wondered what happened at that time to no longer have a full wardrobe. Not that he'd had one until Fleur had taken him shopping. Had it something to do with his parents? He'd never considered Remus's parents before. Where were they, if they were even amongst the living?

Instead, he simply said, "You look better for it."

Remus smiled. "Yes, I've heard that from Tonks, too. Sirius wanted me to take care of myself more and I have tried."

Memories of the will reading resurfaced.

Harry furrowed his brow as he recalled a particular moment. "Didn't Sirius also leave you a letter? What was in that?"

Remus's expression didn't change, but Harry felt the atmosphere around his companion shift.

"It's okay," said Harry, regretting asking the personal question. "Forget I asked."

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment their meals arrived. After thanking their waiter, Lupin immediately began to eat. Harry took the hint and dropped the subject, tucking into his fish and chips.

The afternoon passed in much the same way as the morning. The pair visited another six houses in the inner city. Two seemed to fit what Harry sought, but Remus said they could look at several others still on their list the following day and make a decision then.

That night Tonks visited again. Upon learning Harry had offered to cook dinner (Remus confessed he usually bought take away due to his abysmal skills in the kitchen) she decided to stay for the meal. For the first time, Harry tried out some of the charms to assist his cooking as he'd seen Molly Weasley do a hundred times. After a few incidents of overexcited knives continuing to chop almost every piece of food in sight into little bits, Harry got the hang of it and soon dinner was served.

"This looks brilliant, Harry," said Tonks in awe. Harry shrugged off the compliment as he turned to pass a dish to Remus. "Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Dursleys," muttered Harry. He set out a dish for himself and took a seat at the head of the table, Tonks and Remus on either side.

No further comment was made, and the three began to eat. Remus and Tonks quickly began a conversation over events in the Ministry. Harry was content to listen, though the pair mostly spoke of matters unrelated to the war and he learned little. He did, however, notice that Tonks's eyes continually lingered on Remus.

After dinner, Remus showed Tonks out while Harry cast the charms to clean and dry the dishes. Just as Harry was done, Remus returned to the kitchen alone.

"We should start getting ready for bed," began Lupin, seeing that the remnants of dinner were taken care of. "We'll have another early morning ahead of us."

Harry agreed, already feeling the effects of a late night and early morning. He trudged upstairs and set about readying for bed.

As he lay in bed an hour later, he wondered about the members of the DA. How was Hannah coping being in her home for the first time since her parents were murdered? How was Susan coping with helping Hannah? How was Padma (and by extension Parvati) coping with convincing her father to stay in Britain, even for one more semester? How was Hermione coping with trying to keep her parents safe? How was everyone coping with the fact that in a short amount of time they'd be leaving Hogwarts?

Harry abruptly rolled over to his side, trying to dislodge his thoughts from the path they were taking. Wondering wasn't going to help. Seems he had to keep telling himself that lately. All that it was serving to accomplish was giving him a headache, a sharp pain somewhere behind his forehead.

The night passed agonisingly slowly. It was very late that finally he fell asleep.

What felt like minutes later he was awoken by noises from somewhere in the rest of the house. Groaning, he tried to fall back asleep but it was useless. Restful sleep had eluded him for the night.

The noises, voices in fact, grew louder, or perhaps more people were now involved. Then the screeching of Mrs. Black joined the throng of voices, the words 'mudblood', 'filth' and 'traitors' clearly making their way upstairs to Harry's room. Harry opened his eyes, revealing a blurred vision of the peeling paint on the ceiling of his bedroom, and sighed. He knew he had to get up and find out what was going on.

It took three minutes for Harry to stumble downstairs, but that had been too long. The door to the kitchen was already firmly shut and there were no noises from the other side. Mrs. Black, thankfully, had long since been silenced.

_An Order meeting_, Harry mused.

Harry leant against the wall in the hallway and closed his eyes. Had there been another series of Death Eater attacks? Something serious had to have happened to warrant a half four in the morning assembly.

Knowing the Order meeting would be some time before concluding, Harry made his way upstairs to one of the sitting rooms he had cleaned out two summers ago and slumped into a seat. Leaning his head on his hand, he stared out the opening curtains on the far side of the room and into the dawning day.

Harry abruptly awoke two hours later, having begun dozing almost immediately. He removed his glasses and rubbed at his itchy eyes. The sun had risen far enough to cast rays of sunshine into the room. Harry stood and walked over to the window, briefly parting the curtains for a look onto the street. Remnants of fog could still be seen over the neighbourhood. Still exhausted, Harry decided he needed a coffee, now, to make it through the day so he stood and ventured downstairs a second time to see if the Order meeting had finished.

It hadn't. However, a copy of the days Daily Prophet lay on the floor near the doorway that Harry hadn't noticed earlier. He picked it up and unfolded it. His heart sank as he read began to read the front page story.

Sunderland, Middlesborough, Ipswich, Reading and Liverpool were the targets of another series of Death Eater attacks on Auror outposts. Eight Aurors were dead. Sixteen injured receiving care at St. Mungo's. Five dead Death Eaters with another two injured and receiving treatment. Unconfirmed reports indicate another two were captured alive and well and were taken in for interrogation by the DMLE. At the time of printing, the families of the deceased had not been notified. The article reported that the evening edition would name names.

Harry grimaced as he realised his assumption had been correct. Another few families were damaged or destroyed because of this madman. What was the damn point of it all? What was Voldemort after?

Remus's words came back to him.

_But if we're honest, Voldemort's plan is still a complete unknown to us_.

Once again Harry had to wonder. All of these attacks on the Aurors had to be building towards something, but what?

Harry quickly perused the rest of the paper, searching for anything else suspicious, anything to provide a clue to the ultimate agenda. The editorial and reader letters segments were demanding further action from the Minister and questioned his ability to provide the results that were so desperately needed. Harry noted that and wondered whether Scrimgeour had begun vetting the Ministry as he'd suggested at Christmas. Somehow, he doubted it.

Nothing, however, seemed to leap out to him as a clue, and he tossed the paper aside in frustration. Quickly, Harry reined it back in. He knew the Order was working as hard as they could to learn what Voldemort was after. For the briefest moment Harry wished he could still see inside Voldemort's mind and learn something, anything that could help. While he nor Dumbledore nor Hermione knew for certain why the connection seemed to have shut, it was for the best.

Harry took a seat on the stairs, wary of the portrait of Mrs. Black just above him, and settled in to wait for the meeting to finish. He had nothing else to do while Remus was no doubt in there. Inconveniently, he couldn't really make himself any breakfast either.

He entertained the thought of unlocking the door and venturing in to acquire some breakfast regardless. Had he roused himself a little sooner, perhaps he could have walked in on the meeting and made his claim to be there? After all, he was the damn Chosen One. There had to be a point where he would be allowed to know everything that was happening in the war he was expected to win.

_Frankly_, he thought as he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, _that time has come and passed_.

Suddenly, Harry stopped moving, a thought occurring to him.

Hermione's idea that Harry needed to prove to Dumbledore that he was ready for all the knowledge pertaining to the Horcruxes had a solid basis. They both had agreed on that. What if that proof could be from joining and participating in the Order?

It wasn't a surety of any sort, he knew that, but Harry took the idea and ran with it.

He was viewed as an adult in the wizarding world now thanks to his emancipation, so that reason against his exclusion was out the window now. He knew about the prophecy and the Horcruxes, so he had knowledge other Order members didn't. There was no way Harry was going to sit idly by for another entire year at Hogwarts after this one before sallying forth to take on Voldemort. All the extra lessons he'd taken, that Dumbledore himself had permitted, had to be for this very reason. Even if Dumbledore expected Harry to return to the Dursley's one last time, there would be an entire month between the protections around his house falling and the start of the new term. Voldemort would surely seek him out during that time with everything he had. It made sense for Harry to become involved sooner rather than later.

Before he could pursue that line of thought any further, the door to the kitchen opened. Harry half stood and turned to see Snape emerging first, his robes billowing around him as he strode purposefully down the hallway to the front door. Harry and Snape locked eyes for a long moment, the tension between them almost palpable. Then Snape passed Harry, reached the door and with a crack was gone.

Harry turned back to see many familiar faces from the previous few days. A few nodded politely as they passed, but none stopped to talk. Finally, Tonks and Remus appeared, closely followed by Dumbledore himself.

"Sir," began Harry almost immediately.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore brightly, as if they'd run into each other on the street. "I'm very sorry but I have further urgent business to attend to. I'm afraid your questions will have to wait until a later time."

Without anything further, Dumbledore was out the door and had Apparated away.

Somewhat irritated at the instant snub, Harry rounded on the two remaining Order members. He drank in their appearance, noting the dark circles under their eyes. Whatever his complaints about little sleep, it had probably been worse for them last night. Still, he wasn't going to take it easy on them.

"I want to know what's going on."

Tonks and Remus glanced at each other.

"Come," said Remus, and turned to re-enter the kitchen. Tonks followed suit.

Remus had the kettle already boiling when Harry had entered the room. The kitchen had been temporarily enlarged to fit the nearly two dozen people present at this particular meeting. Tonks was beginning the reversal process. Harry fixed himself a coffee and took a seat at the long dining table. While he blew the heat away from his beverage, Remus took a seat opposite.

"I read the _Prophet_. There's been another series of attacks."

Tonks finished dismantling the Expansion Charms on the room, and the sight of the walls closing in momentarily disorientated Harry. She took the seat beside Remus.

Remus sipped some of his tea. "The Order doesn't know much yet. The attacks began sometime around eleven p.m. and the last around half two. All the dead and captured Death Eaters are low tier, but we believe Rodolphus Lestrange and Macnair were leading two of the attacks. The captured are being interrogated by Kingsley as we speak. But we don't expect them to know much. They're new recruits."

Harry absorbed this information. He noticed Tonks shooting Remus glances every other moment.

"What did Snape have to say for himself?" asked Harry.

"Severus indicated that Voldemort has been extremely secretive lately," said Remus. He leant forward on his elbows, his face looking weary. "Furthermore, Severus has been busy with a project that he cannot discuss."

Harry struggled for a moment not to ask '_cannot or will not_?'

The remainder of the meeting, Remus said, was mostly speculation, plans for the coming few days, and a brief update on everyone's situation. There were a few promising leads for information, but nothing concrete yet.

An hour later, Remus and Harry resumed their house hunting with a far more subdued atmosphere. Once again, time passed quickly. By lunch, they had visited all available houses in the inner city that Remus had found fitting their requirements.

Harry suggested over another cafe lunch that they look a little further out of the city. Remus obliged the request, and within an hour they were visiting some of the suburbs on the south bank of the Thames.

Finally, at the last place the pair decided to visit for the day, Harry found it.

It was a recently renovated, mostly furnished four storied house. It was situated a few hundred metres west of a huge community grassland and, according to the information package the realtor provided Remus, three miles south of the Thames in an 'up and coming young people hotspot'. Harry could tell it wouldn't be cheap, but something felt right about it.

"I want this one," he said confidently.

The pair stood in one of the supposed normal bedrooms on the top floor. In itself, it was as large as his Aunt's and Uncle's bedroom. Given the size of the house and everything it had to fit, Harry thought that impressive. Harry turned to Remus, wanting his thoughts.

Remus gave a smile and began a second run through the house with greater purpose. When they reached the ground floor again, Remus took one final look around and turned to Harry.

"I think this can work," he said with a smile. "It will need a fair amount of work to make the Expansion Charms suitable and furnish the added rooms. Are you certain? This is an enormous decision to make."

Harry stood still and closed his eyes, trying to take in everything about this place. Something about it felt right. He couldn't explain it, but he could picture it. He could picture Hermione curled up on a sofa chair with a book in front of the fireplace in the living room to his left. He could picture Padma on a couch in the other living room, chatting quietly and comfortably with Su. He could picture Luna in the small but well maintained back garden, eyes closed sitting in the grass in a living picture of serenity. Neville and himself, he could see, in the dining room discussing their next move. Others, too, he could picture in the house.

He opened his eyes.

"Yeah, I am."

Remus breathed a sigh of relief. Harry did too. It had been a tiring day. He checked his watch and noted it was almost six. They both knew it was too late in the day to make any more progress.

However, their search was over.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The next morning, the first stop was Gringotts.

Gringotts, apparently, was the quickest (not cheapest, however) way to sort out all the documents on both the wizarding and Muggle sides. Nevertheless, it was almost an hour after it was his turn in line that everything was signed, sealed, and ready to go.

Thankfully, the Goblin who served him – whose name Harry never caught – looked the other way when Harry filled out the forms under an alias. Indeed, he'd been unfailingly polite, though he'd watched him with unnerving intensity. He supposed he was receiving special treatment as a result of the expectations the Goblins had for him – defeating Voldemort and improving their lot in life.

Harry travelled down to this vault to store the important documents on Remus's recommendation. Upon his entrance he immediately noticed the significant increase in gold he'd received from Sirius, even after the rather large sum of money for the house had been removed.

_How could I ever spend this?_ Harry wondered, gazing at the dozens if not hundreds of piles of galleons. _But I'm glad I have it. How would I have been able to support this otherwise?_

Minutes later, Harry met a patiently waiting Remus near the entrance.

"Thanks for all your help with this," said Harry. "I would've been lost on how to do this without you."

"Don't mention it," replied Remus. The two stepped out into Diagon Alley once more. The sun shone in their eyes for a moment until they descended the steps, the shops then blocking the morning sun.

Harry scanned the shops as they walked, noting the relative quietness of business once again. Given it was the Easter holidays, Harry had expected the alley to be packed with people. The Death Eater attacks must have taken more of a toll on the morale of the public than he'd realised.

One particular shopfront caught Harry's eye.

"Listen, could you do me one more favour and wait for me in about half an hour at the Leaky Cauldron? There's something I need to take care of."

Remus stopped and looked in the direction Harry was. After a moment's consideration, he said, "Alright. I trust you not to abuse this. Come straight to the Leaky Cauldron the moment you are done."

Harry readily agreed. The two split ways and Harry entered the shop that had caught his attention.

Weasley Wizard Wheezes was as colourful and vibrant as ever. The shelves were stacked with now dozens of products, many new to Harry, but plenty of those he were familiar with. As he stepped into the store, a chime sounded off, and there was movement near the back of the store.

"Hi, welcome to... Oh, Harry, hi."

Verity, the sole sales assistant the Weasley twins had hired, looked surprised to see him. But her demeanour was instantly friendly.

"How are you? Are you here to see the bosses?"

"Hi, Verity," said Harry. "I'm well, thank you. Yeah, I am. Could you tell them I'm here to see them?"

Strangely, a devious smile crossed her face.

"I have a better idea. Come, we're gonna surprise them."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but followed her to the back of the store where a plain wooden door separated the main floor from what Harry assumed was the stockroom.

"They're in there," said Verity with that same smile on her face. She then added, "Go ahead. No need to knock."

Confused, Harry obeyed and opened the door, not sure what to expect. He immediately heard the familiar voices of the twins.

"...with the demand, surely we could consider asking him," one of the twins was saying.

"I know, brother of mine, but he likely won't be too fond of the idea."

"Ah, that Harry is a fickle guy. If we pitch this just right, we can get his approval."

"And what exactly are you making that would need my approval?" asked Harry in a wry tone, stepping into the room and seeing the twins sitting at a table, their backs to him.

The twins simultaneously jumped to their feet. A quick wave of their wands and whatever it was the pair were working on was banished somewhere out of Harry's eyesight.

"Blimey, Harry!" exclaimed George. Harry wasn't sure how he knew it was George, but he did. "You almost scared the pants off me."

"Shame, too," commiserated Fred, checking out the pants still on his brother's legs, "I wanted to see if that were possible. That could make for an interesting clothing line."

George, recovering quickly, turned to his twin and nodded solemnly. "Tragic. Perhaps we should devote some time to this after..." He paused, and turned back to Harry. "Hang on a tick; aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

"And wasn't Verity supposed to stop people from coming back here?"

Verity chose that moment to pop her head around the corner. She looked all too pleased with herself.

"Consider that part one of your comeuppance." She grinned widely at the redheads before disappearing back into the store.

"Comeuppance?" asked Harry, turning back to the twins. They shared a dark look.

"Suffice it to say, dear Harry, that we, err... made an error in judgment."

"Indeed," added Fred. "It involved some Firewhiskey, Vanishing spells, and... well, I've probably said too much."

Amused, Harry smiled to himself. At least these two hadn't changed. God, he hoped these two had no involvement in or knowledge of what Ron and Ginny had been up to.

"What brings you to our establishment, partner of ours?"

"I'm staying in London for Easter and was on my way back from Gringotts," explained Harry. "I figured I'd drop in and see how you two are. I haven't heard from you since the summer. How's business these days?"

The twins exchanged inscrutable looks.

"Business is well," said George is a strange tone. "Sales are a bit slow in store during semester, but our mail order business has really taken off over the last few months."

"That's great to hear."

An awkward silence ensued.

Harry looked between the twins, who once again shared a strange look. He couldn't shake the feeling something wasn't entirely right.

Feeling somewhat confrontational, he asked, "What's wrong?"

The twins avoided his eyes as he tried to meet them.

"Guys, seriously, what's wrong?"

"Look, we had no idea what our younger siblings were up to, we swear," said George quickly. He met Harry's eye for a moment.

"We only found out when we asked our parents why you weren't staying at the Burrow for Christmas," continued Fred at the same clip. Nervous didn't quite cover it.

"Mum was acting strange when we asked about you. Like she didn't know who you were."

"So we went to Dad and cornered him for answers. You know that we consider you a brother, mate. It was strange that you weren't going to stay at the Burrow or the family at Grimmauld at least. Dad told us about the entire affair."

"I swear," began George, holding his hand to his heart. "We had no knowledge of what they were doing."

"It's the truth," said Fred solemnly. "We got into a dreadful fight with Ron and Ginny when we confronted them at Christmas. They said Mum put Ginny up to it." The twins shook their heads. "The fight reminds me of the one when Prefect Percy left. I never wanted to see that happen again."

George nodded sadly. "We haven't spoken with Ron or Ginny since, or been home. We still see Dad every so often for a bite, but..."

The pair let it be at that.

Harry thought about what he'd been told. The twins sounded genuine, and if he were honest, he believed them. But something they'd said had caught his attention.

"Hang on, what did you mean your mother acted like she didn't know who I was? She still sent me a jumper and pies at Christmas."

Fred and George exchanged another look. Fred spoke first this time. "We don't rightly know."

"It was the strangest thing." George got a faraway look in his eyes, as he thought back to the day. "She was cooking at the time, perfectly normal, when we came in and mentioned you."

"The second we said your name, she stopped what she was doing and just stood there for a few seconds. Then, she told us that we weren't expecting any guests for the holidays."

"When we asked why..."

Fred grimaced. "She told us that only family was invited for Christmas."

"We considered you family, and thought Mum did too. So we tracked down Dad, but he was tight lipped when we demanded answers."

"All he said was that '...measures had been taken to ensure there would be no reoccurrence', whatever that means."

Harry could guess. Whatever Dumbledore had meant when he said he'd taken care of Molly, this had to be it. What exactly had the Headmaster done? Did Arthur know?

"I'm sorry guys," said Harry.

George shook his head, took a step forward and slapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's not your fault, buddy. You were a victim in this, and I'm sorry to say that my family did such a thing to you."

"You've been nothing but good to us." Fred agreed, replicating his twins' gesture. "Heck, you've saved some of our lives. This is a piss poor way to repay you."

Harry looked at the twins, really taking in their appearance, their expressions. He couldn't express how glad he was that these two were on the level.

"Don't worry, I believe you."

The twins let out near simultaneous breaths. Their relief was obvious.

"Thanks, Harry." Fred smiled. "Couldn't tell you how terrified we were when you came in unannounced like that. Didn't have a clue what you would say if you thought we were somehow party to that mess."

"Don't worry about it," repeated Harry. "I'd rather not dwell on it anymore."

Fred and George exchanged one more look.

Sensing the need for a subject change, Harry started moving around the backroom, which he finally took in fully. The place was a hodgepodge of extra shelf stock, paperwork, materials and half-formed ideas. The twins were really putting their creativity to use.

"You guys have done a great job here."

He turned to face the twins, who were standing a little straighter and wore identical grins.

"We have been told we have a certain flair for the art of the prank," said Fred with far too much pride in his tone. He took an excessively dramatic bow.

"Don't tell her we said so, but McGonagall came in during Christmas," added George conspiratorially. "She wouldn't say it exactly, but we could tell she was impressed and approved."

Harry laughed. That sounded about right. McGonagall wouldn't say it, not ever, but after spending so much time with her over the past few months he knew she enjoyed some of innocent mischief students got up to a tad more than she let on. Sometimes students went overboard, and that's when she'd be harsh in her punishments.

Quickly, the twins returned to their natural selves. Harry stuck around for another ten minutes, enjoying examining the new products and the pure light heartedness of the shop. That ended when Harry's half an hour was up. He bade farewell to the twins and Verity, and left the shop in much higher spirits.

But the question of what exactly happened to Mrs. Weasley lingered in the back of his mind.

-x-x-x-x-x-

By the time Harry and Remus returned to the house it was mid-morning. The pair began discussing how best to furnish the place and where to position the Enlargement Charms. By dusk, the enlargements were done and a solid list of what they would need to buy over the next two days had been drawn up.

Watching Remus work the Enlargement Charms was an interesting experience. They had to be positioned in specific locations and tied to certain objects to be permanent. Remus, apparently, wasn't too shabby on his Charms work either.

Too exhausted to offer to cook, Harry suggested they check out the restaurants in the area. A fifteen minute walk brought the pair to street filled with restaurants. Remus suggested a quiet looking Italian place.

A wonderful, expensive meal later they returned to Grimmauld Place to find half a dozen rowdy guests in the kitchen. Harry begged off dealing with them, claiming tiredness, and went to his bedroom to prepare for bed.

To settle down he picked a copy of his Charms textbook as something to read. After he'd read no more than two pages, there was a knock at his door.

"Come in," he called, figuring it was Remus or Tonks. It wasn't.

The door creaked open to reveal Arthur Weasley. Harry sat stunned for a second before sitting up and closing his book, setting it aside.

"Ah, hello, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, somewhat in shock. He hadn't seen Arthur since the previous summer, before what happened with Ron and Ginny. Was that what this was about?

The twins he'd had time to prepare for. This was a surprise.

"Come in."

Arthur stepped into the room and closed the door. Harry took in his appearance. The patriarch's hairline had receded a little further since the previous summer. Otherwise, he appeared much the same man. However, Harry sensed weariness akin to his own. Harry wondered if Arthur had slept well recently.

"Harry, it's good to see you." Mr. Weasley crossed the room to the free bed. "May I?"

Harry nodded. His shock had worn off. Now he was on guard.

"Forgive me for intruding, but I was hoping we could discuss something important." Arthur took a seat on the edge of the bed. He looked nervous.

"Go ahead, sir."

"Foremost, I'd like to apologise for the pain my children caused you and Hermione." Arthur sighed and seemed to age another few years. "There is no excuse for their actions, despite how I wish otherwise. I'm very sorry, Harry."

"You don't need to apologise, sir," said Harry calmly. "You didn't know."

At least Harry hoped that was the case.

"No, Harry. My first knowledge of this was upon receiving the letter from Minerva."

Harry carefully searched the older man's features in an attempt to discern his honesty.

"I believe you."

"Thank you," said Arthur. "Nevertheless, Molly, Ginevra and Ronald are my family and my responsibility. Again, I'm sorry. I can only hope a relationship with my family hasn't been irreparably damaged."

Harry looked away. "I don't know. I don't know if I can ever be friends with Ron or Ginny again. Mrs. Weasley..." he trailed off, unsure of even what he wanted to say on the subject of the matriarch.

Arthur watched Harry for a moment, pondering. Harry turned back to face him once more.

"Son, there is something I wish for you to know," said Arthur hesitantly. "It's about Molly. I don't expect this to change your mind, but for you to understand my request I have to explain the full story."

_What request? _Harry wondered. _What full story_?

"Go ahead."

"Thank you." Arthur leant forward onto his knees. He took deep breaths, building up his courage to speak.

"As I'm sure you're aware, Molly had two siblings, brothers," began Arthur. "Gideon and Fabian were older, but Molly was always the one watching out for them. They were almost inseparable. Even after we married, Gideon and Fabian were over every other night. Around the time William was born, You-Know-Who had built the foundations of his Death Eaters. He'd become more and more influential. The next decade was a dark and dangerous time, Harry, even worse than the days we live in now. But we continue toward those days once more."

Arthur ran a hand through his thinning hair. "When we learned that Gideon and Fabian had joined the Order, Molly insisted on keeping a close eye on them. I, too, was concerned, but more for Molly. She's always been overprotective. So we became unofficial members of the Order. Sometimes we attended meetings. Our family kept growing and eventually neither Molly nor myself could justify involving ourselves any further. But Molly continued to watch over her brothers. We'd still have them over for dinner, and she'd still show up suddenly in their homes for visits. She fretted and fussed and cared in a way only family could. And then they died."

Arthur sighed once more. Harry observed the man, wondering what the point of this history lesson was. He'd heard of the Prewett brothers when he first arrived at Grimmauld Place but knew little. What did they have to do with the _vis diligo_ spell?

"Molly took their deaths hard. She..." Arthur faltered for a moment. He reached into his pants pocket and retrieved a handkerchief which he used to wipe at his eyes. Harry turned his gaze away in a poor attempt at offering privacy. "She had just given birth to our little Ginevra at the time. The birth took an enormous toll on her and hadn't recovered yet."

Arthur put the handkerchief aside and met Harry's eyes again. He then said, voice low and emotional, "When she heard the news, Molly had a breakdown. The Healers at St. Mungo's who treated her said they were concerned about the risk she posed to herself. The stress... They recommended Molly take Calming Draughts whenever she had extreme emotions until she'd recovered. It's rare that Healers are left with this option. As with all potions, overuse can have serious side effects. We went through many, many doses the following weeks until it finally seemed she'd accepted their deaths and begun to move on."

Harry felt a little sympathy for Molly. But a larger part of him remained sceptical. What was the point of this story?

"Molly threw herself into raising our children with the same fervour she had when she was trying to keep her brothers safe. I... I don't think she was ever quite the same again after her breakdown and the deluge of potions she consumed. Potions, Harry, often affect the mind. Overuse..." Arthur shook his head.

"She was still a wonderful wife and parent," said Arthur fervently, as if that was an important fact to remember. "But in the months and years since her breakdown, she wasn't ever the same. There were many instances, too many to name, that made me believe that, many of which I have only now noticed through hindsight."

Arthur didn't speak for a time. When he did, his voice was quiet.

"One night as we were enjoying a quiet drink after the children were put to bed, Molly brought up her use of the _vis diligo_ spell on me in our sixth year of Hogwarts to attract my attention. She remembered the time fondly. She wistfully said to me that it would be wonderful for our daughter to find someone like she had. I agreed. I thought nothing of it at the time, but now it is one of many memories I wonder..."

"Weren't you upset when you found out what the spell did to you?" asked Harry sceptically. Having been silent for much of Arthur's story, Harry found he couldn't let this slide without comment. How this man could not be unsettled by the use of the spell on him was beyond him.

Arthur shook his head once more. "From what I understand, my daughter used the spell several times more than was meant to causing your extreme situation. Molly used the spell to lead me to her, yes, but she removed it after our first date. She told me a few weeks later. I was upset and felt betrayed. However, by then I genuinely cared for Molly. I moved past it. We became happy together."

Harry remained sceptical, both on Arthur's thoughts on the spell and his objectivity. Perhaps his experience had blinded him to more innocent uses of love potions and the sort, but presently Harry despised them.

"Our daughter, our Ginevra, was a miracle for us. After six wonderful sons, we were finally gifted a daughter to cherish. Molly wanted the best for her, and so did I. We wanted her to grow up strong and intelligent, ready and able to tackle the world. We wanted her to become someone who could make what she wanted hers. When you saved her from the Chamber of Secrets, Molly thought it was destiny. She'd told your story dozens of times to little Ginevra as she grew and for you to then you save her from death? I believe that she convinced Ginevra of it too. Destiny. Her life could become a modern fairy tale."

"I ignored many of the signs," admitted Arthur. "In retrospect, I can see more of the deterioration. The stress of the war, losing her beloved brothers, her breakdown and maybe an overconsumption of potions... Molly isn't quite the same person as she used to be and it has grown worse as the years have passed, though perhaps quicker than I realised given what transpired. Perhaps I was in denial that something was actually, truly wrong."

Arthur stood and stepped closer to Harry, laying a hand on his shoulder and meeting eyes. "I love my wife, Harry, more than may ever know. I hope you can understand where I am coming from when I ask what I am about to."

"I don't know what you want from me, Mr. Weasley," said Harry. "I'm sorry about your wife. However, I can't forgive her or Ron or Ginny because she may be... I don't know, damaged. What Ginny did to me, and Ron to Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley fully endorsed, had real and dangerous consequences. That spell is illegal for a reason, it undermines free will. All involved should've known better, especially Ginny."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Arthur yet again. He let Harry go and turned away, staring at nothing in particular. Harry wondered what, if anything, the man would do now that Harry had dashed the man's hope for forgiveness for his wife and youngest children.

It was several moments before Arthur said, "I apologise again. Perhaps I'm only telling you this in effort to assuage my own guilt for not recognising something was wrong and stopping it."

All of the emotions Harry felt made forming a response tricky. He felt sympathy toward Arthur. How couldn't he? But his ire at what happened to him was far stronger.

"I don't understand the wizarding world sometimes," said Harry. He leaned back onto his bed and stared at the peeling ceiling. "How can love potions and the sort ever be legal? How can someone justify using them to themselves? They rob someone of their free will, their right to make choices."

Arthur didn't reply. Harry sat up to stare at the man, usually so vibrant and enthusiastic, now silent and distant. All of this caused, perhaps, because of the loss of two brothers more than a decade ago if this tale was truthful.

After a time, Harry's thoughts meandered back to his meeting with the twins earlier in the day and the question that had been left burning in his mind.

Here was the chance to acquire an answer. Arthur didn't appear ready to ask what he wanted to, so Harry licked his lips and asked the question that had bothered him for weeks. "What did Dumbledore do?"

Arthur was silent still for several long moments. Then, he spoke.

"Albus visited The Burrow the day after the events at Hogwarts. He explained everything. We were afraid, Molly and I. Albus said he would keep Ginevra away from prosecution, but there would be a price."

"Which was...?"

"Oaths," said Arthur simply. "Oaths that Molly, Ronald or Ginevra would never in any way communicate about or use the spell in question again, and that neither would never in any way work to harm or impair yourself or Hermione. We agreed, given our other option wasn't an option to us."

_Oaths_, Harry mused. They were effective if the punishment for breaking them was severe enough. Harry hoped that was indeed the case.

For the other point, Harry presumed the other option was Azkaban. The spell was, after all, punishable with jail time.

"Albus said knowledge of the spell should die off. He's purged the library at Hogwarts of references to it and is working toward the same at the Ministry. This is perhaps for the best."

Arthur sighed regretfully. "Molly and I have discussed what our relationship with you should be in the future. Molly believed it would be best if you didn't come to The Burrow given the situation. It's my hope that one day we can reconcile and feel at home with us once more. I insisted we send our usual package as a message. I hope that wasn't wrong of me. Again, I'm so sorry."

"Harry, having said all of this I ask one more thing of you." Arthur wiped at his eyes which were beginning to tear once more. "You have always been a wonderful young man that I am proud to have been part of my family. I know some of us have wronged you, but please don't take any further action against my Molly, Ronald or my daughter. I will make certain you aren't hurt by us anymore. I give you my word as a husband and a father."

Once again, Harry was stunned. Here was this man he'd almost considered a father figure, begging him for compassion. While he wasn't going to forgive any of those responsible anytime soon, he had no intention of pursuing any further punishment.

"I won't, Mr. Weasley," said Harry sombrely.

"Thank you."

Harry let Arthur have a moment to compose himself.

"Thank you for telling me all of this."

"Thank you for listening. I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't wanted to."

Neither was certain how to proceed, so Arthur begged leave to return to his family. Harry let him go.

The door once more closed, Harry sat on his bed trying to process the revelations of the past hour. Molly unhinged? And Dumbledore preventing a repeat performance with oaths to not impair or harm him?

Harry spent another sleepless night deep in thought.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The following day was hectic to say the least. Harry kept the conversation with Arthur to himself, instead losing himself in the work ahead of him. Searching for suitable furniture took up almost all of their day even with the significant advantage of magic. Remus, to Harry's mixed opinion, was guilty of a Confundus Charm or three. The Muggle serving them at the first store was dumbfounded when Remus had said there was no need for a delivery service. Harry realised the problem immediately. Remus had the solution.

By early evening their extensive purchases – the price of which caused Harry to thank God he was wealthy, even if it barely made a dent in the remainder of his fortune – were deposited shrunken in the living rooms. The next step was to start placing them in the unfurnished rooms, but Harry noticed Remus looking unusually weary. The lines in his face were once more extremely pronounced.

Concerned, and somewhat exhausted himself given his lack of sleep lately, Harry recommended they leave the rest of the work for their remaining days. After depositing his coat in his wardrobe back at Grimmuald Place, Harry ventured after Remus to the man's bedroom, set out very similarly to his own though with a queen bed instead of two singles, and brought the subject up.

"Is everything alright? You're not looking terribly well."

Remus grimaced and looked out his window. The view was mostly of the countless houses spreading out over the inner suburbs of London. But Remus was looking toward the sky.

"Tomorrow night is a full moon," he said softly.

Harry instantly looked out the window toward the sky, where he saw the moon partially obscured by cloud. A few seconds passed and the clouds continued their trek across the sky to reveal an almost full moon.

The moon meant almost nothing to Harry. How would it feel to live a life constantly ruled by it? He couldn't even fathom it.

"The timing is abysmal," continued Remus, drawing his gaze from the sky. He began rummaging through his wardrobe and began to change from his fitted shirt to something more casual. "I fear I may not be much use for tomorrow or the day after."

"That's fine, "came an almost immediate response. "I just need you to be present when we leave the house. I can handle all the heavy lifting now."

Remus laughed a small laugh. "Indeed. You have impressed me with the ease you use your magic the past few days. I've no doubt you could have handled all we've accomplished from the outset."

_The magic, probably_, thought Harry, but he knew he'd have been at a loss to tackle the Muggle side of things.

"Alright," said Remus with a gesture toward his door. "I develop quite the appetite this time of the month. Let me get changed and let's eat."

Harry let the man be and began to walk back downstairs. He hadn't even made it to the stairs before encountering Tonks. She was still dressed in her Auror uniform. However, today she sported a blonde pixie cut that was quite flattering. At least Harry found it to be.

"Tonks," said Harry warmly. "You're back early, aren't you?

"Wotcher, Harry. I got myself an early mark for extenuating circumstances," she replied dismissively, only to adopt an easy grin as she examined his outfit. "Never mind that though. I like this style you've got now. Between yourself and Remus, these new clothes I'm seeing are looking smashing on you two lately. Remus is... Well, it's a wonder _you _don't have any woman after you."

Two images appeared in his mind's eye. One was an image of Padma, her face close to his, the sensation of her hand grasping his as they smiled at each other, and another of Hermione, tired, but smiling radiantly as she stroked his cheek while sitting close to him on his bed in his dorm.

Both images suffused his being with warmth like few others. Padma had been wonderful since he'd sought her out in her hideaway at Hogwarts. Hermione… she was _Hermione_.

Both images were ones he'd been ignoring. There were feelings, some he understood and others that he didn't, complicated ones, associated with those images, especially regarding Hermione.

Not wanting to read any further into those thoughts, or the emotions welling within him, with Tonks grinning cheekily at him, he ignored them and her comment.

"Well if you have the time," began Harry as he moved passed Tonks toward the staircase. "You should join us for dinner. I'm sure Remus will enjoy your company..."

Harry trailed off as he approached the stairs and missed the look that crossed Tonks face. The sound of many voices had caught his attention. Once at the top of the stairs, he saw a bunch of people, Order members, some he knew, and others who were new, were entering the house and making their way to the dining room.

"What's going on?"

Tonks crossed to next to Harry.

"Bloody hell, it's that time already?" Tonks said exasperatedly after seeing the parade of people. "Could've sworn I had another hour. 'Scuse me, gotta run. There's an Order meeting."

It took less than three seconds for the implications to sink in.

Having automatically stepped aside to let Tonks pass by, he started following her downstairs.

"I'm coming, too."

Tonks stopped on the bottom stair and faced him. Her expression was apologetic.

"Sorry, Harry," whispered Tonks, mindful of the portrait of Mrs. Black nearby. Harry was amazed she hadn't woken up already. "You know the deal; Order members only in there."

Not dissuaded in the least, Harry stated, "Then it's time I join."

Tonks hesitated. "It isn't that I don't believe you are ready..."

"This is different than when I first arrived here," continued Harry in the face of Tonks reluctance. "A lot has changed. I've been learning all year for this. I'm ready now."

Tonks' hair changed from pink to blue to green and back again. Her conflict was evident.

She was saved from a response by Remus's arrival behind Harry. He'd changed into a more wizardly outfit complete with his robes.

"Evening, Tonks," he said.

"Remus, help me with him."

"Pardon?"

Harry turned to Remus. "I'm joining the Order meeting."

The amount of expressions Remus cycled through rivalled Tonks's hair colour changes.

"Let me save you the trouble of, Remus," began Harry. "I'm accepted as of age in the wizarding world, so I can't be denied due to age. I'm in the thick of this war regardless of whether I'm in that room or not. But being in there, knowing as much as I can, I'll have a better shot and keeping myself and my friends safe."

The subtle emphasis was there; his friends that Remus knew Harry would be taking out of Hogwarts, not just Hermione and Ron.

"Harry, I wish you had discussed this with me earlier," chided Remus. For some reason, it worked; Harry felt a smidge of guilt. He supposed he _was_ being a bit pushy. "However, I will support your joining the Order."

"Remus," hissed Tonks, surprised at his caving. Harry grinned in spite of himself.

Remus looked her dead in the eye and said, "Tonks, remember what we discussed after the Hogwarts Express was attacked? It's time."

Harry looked between the two, noting the significant look Remus was giving. After several moments Tonks's expression melted a bit.

"Alright," she said. "Come on then."

The decision made, Harry followed Tonks and Lupin downstairs into the kitchen.

The room was crowded with upwards of two dozen people, most standing in small groups chatting amongst themselves. A few were already seated at the magically enlarged table, munching on some snacks someone had set out. Expansion Charms on the room were in effect to accommodate them all. A familiar thick cloud of smoke and rank odour stemmed from the other side of the room, but Harry couldn't discern its origin.

At first nobody noticed his arrival. Then someone unfamiliar called out, "Potter?"

The room hushed almost instantly and the occupants sought out Harry and scrutinised him.

Remus stepped forward. He spoke in a calm, precise tone. "Harry is here to join the Order of the Phoenix."

The room was dead silent. Then, "Aye, about darn time if ya ask me."

Harry followed the familiar voice to the back of the room. Mad-Eye Moody stepped forward from behind Hestia Jones with a loud clunk of his wooden leg. "Good to see ya, lad."

"You too, sir," acknowledged a somewhat confused but appreciative Harry.

"Dumbledore tells me ya been keeping busy," continued Moody, ignoring the somewhat bewildered and displeased people around him. "That'd be a matter 'o time before ya got to this point. Glad to have ya on board."

"It's good to be here."

Murmuring voices arose at the exchange. Harry looked around at the people in the room, noting those present and those noticeably unhappy at his presence.

"Ignore 'em, lad," said Moody with a dismissive gesture. "Far too many get their knickers in a twist about anything new."

Harry grinned at the old Auror. Movement caught his eye and he saw Mundungus Fletcher stash his magical pipe, the source of the smoke and odour, and attempt to surreptitiously move to the far end of the room out of sight.

"Hold on," an unfamiliar voice said. "Just hold on a tick here. Since when do we introduce Order members without voting? I don't care if it's Harry-bloody-Potter. The rest us were voted on and he should be too!"

"And isn't 'e a bit young?" added another.

More murmurs.

Harry crossed his arms at the blatant show of opposition. He wasn't sure what their problem was. But whatever the reason, Harry stood up straighter and readied to defend himself.

He was pre-empted by Tonks.

"Settle down, Adams." Tonks scowled at the first person who'd spoken. "Nobody is saying he isn't getting a vote. As for you, Burke, Potter's recognised as an adult and has been for months."

"That's enough everyone," said Remus as he stepped forward in an effort to be peacekeeper. "We will discuss this further when the meeting begins."

"Most of us are 'ere," countered Burke, his accent clearly marking him as Irish. He was pale and thin, but there was something in his eyes. Harry could tell this wasn't a weak-willed wizard. "I say let us debate this!"

Any further discussion was dispelled by the arrival of Dumbledore. The Headmaster wore perhaps the most normal pair of robes Harry had ever seen him wear: maroon. Snape entered the kitchen a few steps behind. The latter looked in a foul mood, his expression dark and, as per usual, exuded a sense of menace.

Almost instantly after sweeping into the room, Snape met Harry's eyes and he scowled.

"Social time has passed, Potter," said Snape scornfully. "It's time for the grownups to talk. Leave us."

"Actually, I intend to stay," replied Harry offhandedly. Snape froze in his progress to the dining table. His eyes bored into Harry's.

"Don't be absurd." Snape stepped forward, removed his cloak and draped it over a chair near the head of the table, not once taking his eyes off Harry. "You and your enormously inflated head have no place in this room."

Harry bristled. It had been some time since their previous encounter but Snape clearly hadn't lost a step when trying to get under his skin.

"I have as much reason to be in the Order as you do," said Harry. "I have been at the centre of every major event surrounding Voldemort since his downfall."

Snape sneered. "All that reveals is your mindless obsession to be the centre of attention, even at the cost of those around you. It's a shame that your precious Godfather isn't here to defend you."

"That's more than enough, Snape," cut in Moody. "Don't ya forget you're guilty of far more than this'n 'ere may be. I wouldn't be the one ta throw stones if I were you."

Tonks, Remus, Moody and a few others, including a previously unnoticed and quiet Arthur Weasley, all stood clearly in opposition to Snape. Harry, however, was infuriated. Every fibre in him wanted to retaliate. But that was exactly what Snape was after, to prove that Harry was nothing more than an arrogant, foolhardy and hot-headed child.

A few deep breaths calmed him considerably.

Sensing he wasn't going to garner the response he'd sought, Snape turned to Dumbledore.

"Did you know of this?" questioned Snape. The Headmaster made no reaction except to smile benignly.

Snape turned away, clearly disgusted. His chair sharply flew out from the table. Snape plonked himself down without any semblance of grace.

The rest of the Order began to take their seats. Harry took a seat at the far end of the table from Snape next to Remus. Tonks sat on the other side of Remus.

"I bring this session to order," said Dumbledore, and all voices ceased immediately. All attention was now focused on the Headmaster. This, Harry noted, was where Dumbledore was in his element. The respect and authority he commanded, his charisma, was something to revere. All disagreements with the man aside, Harry couldn't help admiring that kind of presence.

"First, we will address the membership of Harry Potter." Dumbledore watched the crowd through his half-moon spectacles, judging the reactions. "It is my belief that Mr. Potter can only be an asset to the actions and cause of the Order of the Phoenix. He has shown himself to be an exemplary student and sound of character. I fully endorse his application."

Harry was a little gobsmacked at the complete support he was receiving from the Headmaster.

"Is there anyone who will second and third the application?"

Tonks and Remus immediately responded with an "I!"

"Excellent. The members present this evening total twenty-eight excluding myself and Mr. Potter," continued Dumbledore after making a quick headcount. "As is custom, a majority vote rules. An even split will be decided by the current head of the Order: myself. This is acceptable?"

Mumbles of agreement filled with the room. None took issue with the format of the vote.

"Those in favour raise your hand."

Harry rapidly attempted to count the amount of hands in the air. He could've been wrong but there were definitely more than fourteen.

Dumbledore nodded. "Those against please raise your hand now."

Noticeably fewer raised their hands. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Remus turned to him and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder in support.

"The vote stands at seventeen for, eight against and three abstained from voting," announced Dumbledore. He once more examined the people around him, finally settling on Harry, who met his eyes. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You are now officially a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

There were a few polite claps from around the room, which Harry accepted politely.

"Thank you, sir."

"We will discuss at a later date how to work around your current circumstances to participate in the Order," continued Dumbledore. "For now, we must move this meeting along."

"As we met only two days prior, we will keep this session brief and focus on new information that has been brought to us," said Dumbledore. "Let us begin with the report from the Auror interrogation of the captured Death Eaters from the other nights attack. Nymphadora?"

Dumbledore sat down and Tonks stood. Her hair morphed into a black, army style cut. All eyes turned to her except Harry's, who looked through the gathered people, noting Kingsley absence. This must've been why Tonks was let out early.

Harry focused on Tonks as she started talking. It was a rare sight to see her so serious.

"Two Death Eaters were captured unharmed and were questioned within twelve hours," stated Tonks. "Their names were Joseph Walsh and James Young, both nineteen and apparently childhood friends. From Veritaserum questioning, we've learned these two encountered a similar format as the previous recruits the Auror Department has captured and questioned: a meeting in an underground pub, this time the Squalid Squalor in Manchester. The pub is a known hangout of shady characters. Their attack on the Sunderland outpost was their test. Depending on their performance, they were told by their contact – no names were exchanged –they would pass the first round and move on to the second. They would be accepted as Death Eaters upon reaching requirements they weren't told. Neither Walsh nor Young are aware of any other targets, nor who the Death Eater was that led their assault.

"However, once I left with the other Aurors, Kingsley asked a few additional questions. Young overheard a conversation between the lead Death Eater on their assault and another man whom he doesn't know. The word 'Norwich' was used several times."

A few Order members began conversing with others upon this revelation. Harry leant closer to Remus, seeking answers.

"This is the second reference to Norwich in the last few days," said Remus softly. Harry nodded and leant back, absorbing that piece of information.

"Quiet please," said Dumbledore. The Order quieted within moments. Dumbledore addressed Tonks, "Is there more?"

Tonks nodded. "The Auror Department now has a plant in the Squalid Squalor. However, with past experiences we don't expect any luck there. The prisoners said they were Portkeyed to a staging area in a warehouse prior to their assault, where they Apparated in. The recruits were never outside of the building the staging area was in so we have no leads as to the location. Lastly, the interrogation of the two injured prisoners is happening as we speak. Hopefully Kingsley will have more information for us soon."

"Thank you." Dumbledore turned to his left and looked at Snape, then back to the Order. "Severus informs me he has information to report. Severus, if you please."

Snape stood brusquely and all eyes were drawn to him. He too commanded attention at his whim. However, Harry found Snape lacked the charisma of a leader that Dumbledore had in spades.

"The Dark Lord was pleased with the casualties in this round of attacks," drawled Snape. He sounded bored, as if this were naught but a tiresome chore. "He has expressed keen interest in a rapid follow up, with a suggested time frame of the next seventy-two hours as of two hours ago. I was called out of the meeting to check on my project early into the discussion for potential targets. However, prior my exit I overheard the first two suggestions: Cambridge and Norwich."

The Order once more broke into discussion between neighbours. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was being said.

Norwich mentioned for the third time in a few days? That was more than a coincidence.

Dumbledore rose from his seat. The Order once more quieted down within moments once again.

"Thank you," said Dumbledore again. "I believe the information brought to us today warrants a discussion on a course of action. Three mentions of a city in the past several days. The obvious conclusion to draw is that Norwich will be one of the targets in the next series of attacks. Does anyone have a different conclusion to draw?"

The Order collectively looked around the room, searching to see if anyone had. After an age, Moody spoke.

"Aye, it certainly seems as if we have a likely target. However, we can't ignore the possibility that this is a red herring."

Dumbledore nodded. "Anyone else have another conclusion?"

Silence.

"No? Then we shall address the possibility of a trap."

"Can Snape confirm this for us?" asked Adams. "Him being our informant and all."

Snape looked the picture of disgust. "I cannot confirm with any certainty that Norwich is a target or that it will be targeted in the imminent attacks. You know this as well as I, Adams."

"We have three different sources all mentioning the same city," Hestia Jones said, deftly shutting down the argument before it began. "If this is a plan by You-Know-Who to lure out a mole in his organisation, it is well timed and executed. The Order has not been in the position to intercept an attack in months, and I don't think many would disagree with me when I say we are desperate for a victory."

"I agree," said Tonks. "This may be a trap, and we should proceed with utmost caution in case it is. But we are now in the position to be able to stop a likely attack. We may have finally caught a break. Can we really let this chance pass us by on the chance that it is a trap without any evidence to support that?"

"The girl has a point," said an unknown man. "We've fallen well behind He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named over the last few months. Right now we're flying blind as to his plans. Trap or not, we have to take the chance."

The discussion went back and forth for several more minutes, but Harry heard less and less as it went on. Instead, he was considering what he was hearing for himself.

The Order was struggling, more so than Harry ever thought they were. Even though Remus had confessed to the Order not knowing Voldemort's plans, to the extent that was being intimated here was grim news indeed.

But what really drew Harry's attention was the timeframe. Seventy-two hours. Given it was Thursday, Harry would be at Grimmauld Place for another seventy-two hours. If a plan to defend Norwich was on the cards, Harry knew he had to be involved for his own reasons and to participate in the war.

Harry was drawn back into the conversation by the sound of Dumbledore's voice.

"I believe we have reached a consensus," said Dumbledore. He reached into a pocket in his robes and withdrew some sort of sweet. He removed the wrapping and popped it in his mouth. "We will attempt to intervene with the primary objective the safety of the Aurors stationed in Norwich. The secondary aim will be to capture and secure the Death Eater in command."

Dumbledore turned to Tonks. "Where is the Auror outpost in Norwich?"

"A few miles east of the city in semi-forested parkland," replied Tonks. "Muggles refer to it as Whittingham Country Park. I'm not certain how many Aurors are stationed during the night. Six months ago there were six minimum at all times. Now there could be as few as three."

Dumbledore thanked Tonks and she retook her seat. The Headmaster turned to the other side of the table. "Severus, is there any chance in your opinion that Tom will strike tonight?"

Snape mulled this over for a moment. "Unlikely. The Dark Lord rarely acts without careful consideration. I believe if Norwich is to be attacked, it will be tomorrow evening or Saturday. A rapid strike will be riskier. He is pleased at his successes, but hasn't become complacent."

"In that case, will you, Hestia, and you, Emmanuel, scout out the area tonight?" asked Dumbledore. Jones readily agreed. Emmanuel, a darker-skinned, late-thirties man with a muss of black hair, agreed too. "Good. Borrow Alastor's cloaks. Be very cautious. Tom may also have scouts in the area."

"After we have intelligence on the site, we will devise positioning and action. Until then, we will assume we require the usual Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey fields extending beyond the width of the standard Auror outpost setup."

Moody chimed in. "Standard teams of four. Cover all avenues of approach and keep movement to a minimum until the enemy is in sight. Don't underestimate our opponents because they are new recruits. Capture if possible. Kill only if necessary."

The Order broke out into conversation again, though this time there was more purpose to it. A few people stood up and moved around to talk to other people. Harry noted that there was a vibrant energy in the room coupled with a sense of purpose that had been lacking at the beginning of the meeting.

Harry, however, drew his focus back to Dumbledore. Gathering his courage, he prepared to make perhaps his boldest ever move.

The Order's conversations died one by one as they began to notice Harry standing, hands on the table, staring at Dumbledore. The Headmaster returned his gaze firmly. It took almost a minute for the room to fall silent.

"Sir, I wish to take part."

There was a weighty pause, perhaps ten seconds long, before the first voice was heard.

"You can't be serious!"

Well, it wasn't dramatic, but it encapsulated the speakers' point fairly effectively.

Other voices added their opinions, generally in the negative. Harry ignored them, and focused entirely on the one man whose opinion mattered most. Dumbledore seemed blissfully unaware of the cacophony of words around him.

Eventually, the room fell quiet once more as people noticed the apparent futility of their complaints. Some who had risen retook their seats, again watching the pair at opposite ends of the table.

"You believe you are ready, Harry?"

The gaze leveled at Harry was powerful and unflinching, the tone of voice resonant, conveying a sense of deeper meaning. Harry returned it, his conviction growing by the minute. This was the chance he'd been after to prove himself, to prove to Dumbledore and to himself that he was ready for the outside world, to tackle the Horcrux hunt.

"I do."

Dumbledore moved for the first time in several minutes, adjusting his half-moon glasses. Behind them, his eyes, Harry noticed, were soft and concerned.

"You know I'm ready, sir," continued Harry earnestly. "I've been working all year toward this."

An age seemed to pass before Dumbledore once more spoke. "Very well."

"Albus, really, he's been in the Order for all of five minutes!"

"Oh shut it, Adams." Tonks snapped in response, her hair changing from her typical pink to a fiery red. "Harry's faced more than you have, and is a better duelist than you'll ever be."

The same one that had spoken against Harry earlier scoffed. Harry took in the sight of the man properly having now firmly labelled him under 'opposition' in his head. The man was early or mid-thirties, clean-shaven and owned an entirely bland set of facial features. Plain brown eyes, brushed up light brown hair, and a slightly too large nose.

"I'm afraid I must also disagree with Nymphadora's unbiased opinion." Snape said silkily. Tonks gave the man a dirty look. "Potter is young and headstrong, and overestimates his capabilities. Even if he has managed to improve drastically in the last few months, a fact I find extremely unlikely, he is untrained outside of the classroom and has a tendency to charge in without any semblance of a plan. He is a liability and will cause unnecessary additional risk to any and every Order activity he is involved in."

More damned murmurs of agreement filled the room.

Remus stood, and all eyes turned to him.

"Albus, if I may?" Remus received a cordial nod in return from Dumbledore. "I have observed Harry over the last few days. He has grown considerably in the past year, as a person and as a wizard. In the past few days, I have witnessed him perform magic that many ten years his senior still struggle to accomplish and he performed them with ease. He is more capable than any of us give him credit for."

For a moment, Remus faced Harry, examined his determined expression and sighed. "Truthfully, if I could persuade him out of this course of action, I wouldn't stop until I had. I owe it to James and Lily to watch out for him. However, he is firm in his convictions. He has proven himself to me to be completely resolute in involving himself in the fight against Voldemort."

"Be that as it may, Lupin," wheezed Doge, "The boy is still unexperienced and unprepared for the tasks the Order demands."

"What better situation to allow him to gain that experience?" countered Lupin. "Let's be truthful here, this mission isn't the most sensitive we've undertaken. We have no reason to believe this as anything other than another series of new recruit attacks. These lower key missions are how we induct new field members; it has been since the Order was founded. Harry is no different."

"With all due respect, Remus, that isn't true," Adams scowled. "If he's as all important as he seems to be, then it's crucial he remains safe."

"If he's important as he seems to be, then it is imperative that he acquires experience in the field! What better way than participating in this mission!" Remus countered, tapping the table with a finger to punctuate his point. He turned his gaze to the rest of the Order. "Harry will be surrounded by experienced members of the Order. He won't be any more at risk than previous inductees. He isn't even as green as most of the younger ones."

The sounds of a chair scraping along the floor drew everyone's attention to Arthur Weasley.

"June last year, my son and daughter were part of Harry's group that broke into the Department of Mysteries," said Arthur, his voice calm and composed. The Order was silent, listening intently. "I remember my astonishment that both my children were alive when the Order arrived. From what I'm told, these six children held out for nearly twenty minutes on their own against some of the fiercest Death Eaters. I don't presume to believe that these Death Eaters were attempting to kill our children. However, these six children managed to hold out for that long before a dozen adult and far more experienced wizards could round them up."

Arthur let that sink in for a moment. He then said, "Harry taught other students, even older students, for several months in Defence last year. My older sons, Fred and George, were members too and they swear that Harry was the best teacher they'd ever had. This is all before the extra study given to him this year." He paused once more, taking a deep breath. "I am compelled to agree with Remus. It is time Harry becomes involved in the Order."

Harry had to wonder at Arthur's motives. It wasn't that Harry wasn't grateful for the vote of confidence, but he wasn't sure why it was being given. Was there a play here or was Arthur simply acting on his beliefs?

"Nobody here is dismissing the efforts of Potter on that occasion, Arthur," another unfamiliar voice said. Harry whirled around to face the owner, an early-thirties woman with medium length black hair and brown eyes. She had prominent cheekbones and a sharp, pointed chin. "But these attacks on Auror outposts have only had one objective as far as we can tell: to kill. Can you say without question that those in Potter's group will be able to rely upon him if our attempts to capture fail and we are forced into a kill or be killed scenario?"

Harry didn't sense any antagonism toward him from this woman. Perhaps she simply was concerned he may be unable to function in kill or be killed scenarios.

Truthfully, he wasn't sure he could.

"If Harry is expected to stand up to Voldemort, he needs to gain experience. He cannot do this if we keep him forever sheltered," countered Remus again.

A moment of pause followed. Harry again focused intently on the Headmaster. Dumbledore was impassive as ever, offering little in the way of hints toward his thoughts.

Then, Dumbledore calmly said, "Valid points have been raised on both sides. However, the Order as a whole is divided on the subject. Therefore, I cannot in good conscience allow Harry to be a part of the main group."

Tonks swore under her breath and was a second from interrupting when Remus laid a hand on her shoulder. He shook his head, his expression neutral. Harry, too, waited with what may have been bated breath.

A few pleased looks were plastered on some of the Order members Harry did not know. Curiously, Snape's lip was curling, perhaps one of the few obvious emotions, scowling aside, he ever displayed: a sign of displeasure.

His heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be…

"However," continued Dumbledore, drawing all attention back towards him. He continued to meet Harry's eye, and for a second Harry could've sworn there was a half-smile there. "I believe Harry is ready to begin an introduction to the Order's activities. He will assist in maintaining the perimeter around the site, and ensure Mr. Weasley is undisturbed while erecting and maintaining our Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey fields if engagement occurs."

The Order once again descended into argument; however, Harry had no ear for it. Instead, he nodded to the Headmaster who offered one in return. Something unspoken had passed in their exchange, something more than what appeared on the surface.

_You believe you are you ready, Harry? Ready to face Voldemort and hunt his Horcruxes? Ready to face the truest evil Tom created?_

_I do._

-x-x-x-x-x-

"Is something wrong? You've been very quiet today."

Harry took a bite out of his sandwich as he stared out across the field of grass he and Remus sat in. Dozens of people were scattered around eating their own lunches or tossing or kicking a ball to each other. The sun had just reached its zenith and beat down on them, just warm enough to be uncomfortable.

Beside him sat Remus watching him concernedly as he had for much of the morning. It had made for a strange morning since Harry had been doing much the same to him given tonight was the night of the full moon.

"Has something happened since last night?" continued Remus. "I thought you would be happy with how the meeting turned out." He set aside his unfinished lunch – some Thai thing Harry had never heard of – and Harry quickly got the impression Remus was going to push this.

Harry swallowed his bite and licked his lips, formulating in his mind how much to disclose.

"I _am_ happy that Dumbledore allowed me into the Order and the mission," said Harry carefully. "However, it's who I'm partnered with that concerns me."

"Bill? Do you and Bill Weasley not get along?"

"I suspect we won't."

_Bill Weasley. God, this could be a potential disaster. _

It hadn't hit him until Harry lay in bed reviewing the Order meeting. A Weasley who knew runes? It had to be Bill.

And Bill knew. He _knew_. Fleur said she'd told him. She'd said Bill didn't trust him. Not that Harry could blame him. But what kind of reaction could you have to seeing the person who your fiancée cheated on with?

_Nothing good_, Harry mused.

"Will this be a problem?"

Harry's face was grim when he said, "No, it won't. I won't let it."

The Order, the mission, was more important than any issues between Bill and himself. Harry hoped Bill felt the same way.

"If you need to talk about it further, I'm here," offered Remus.

"I appreciate that," replied Harry. He doubted he'd take up the offer.

Seeing Harry wasn't in a sharing mood, Remus reclaimed his lunch and demolished the remainder while they watched a friendly football game developed between a group of friends and a few strangers. Harry felt a minor pang of loss. Quidditch would be something he'd miss when he left Hogwarts in a little over a week's time.

A considerable time passed in companionable silence. Upon completing his lunch, Remus looked at Harry once more and said, "Tomorrow we should start casting protections. I believe it will consume most of the day, if not more given my condition following a transformation."

"Just tell me exactly what to do. I'm sure I can handle it."

"I'm sure you can."

Remus shifted on the grass beside Harry.

"Whatever happens this evening, be careful. Don't underestimate any Death Eater. I think it was a fair point brought up last night. You don't have much experience in the chaos of a real battle. Just be careful, Harry, and stay on your guard at all times."

Harry turned away from the match as one side scored and a series of cheers followed from the scorer's teammates. Remus was watching the match, too, a troubled look on his face. Harry turned back and saw the two sides were shaking hands and grabbing their things. Lunch was over.

"I know," said Harry as he gathered his rubbish. "I'll be careful."

The afternoon quickly passed while finishing furnishing the house, and all too soon it was time to return to Grimmauld for an early dinner. A handful of Order members were already gathered in the kitchen preparing for the dusk meeting.

The dining room quickly began to fill up around half five with people and an aura of nervous energy. Dumbledore arrived shortly before six with Hestia Jones and Emmanuel Gray in tow. Bill Weasley entered behind them, but remained standing near the entrance.

"Hestia, if you may?" said Dumbledore, gesturing to the table.

Hestia stepped forward and made some complex motions with her wand. Suddenly, an overhead map appeared of an area Harry presumed to be Whittingham Country Park. A long dark rectangle was central to the image, with greens of various shades scattered across large portions of the rest. A narrow path spanned the length, a short distance from a wide waterway.

"Hestia and Emmanuel have reported no sign of Death Eater scouts," announced Dumbledore. "The Auror outpost is here," he pointed to the rectangle, "in a grassy field with only scattered trees within one hundred metres on three sides, and the River Yare on the other, to the north. Due to the limited cover, I recommend we adjust to groups of three. We cannot risk tipping off the enemy with too many numbers. One group will hide under our Invisibility Cloak's on the edge of the Auror alarm fields and two other groups in the trees on the east and western sides."

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Misters Weasley, Potter and White will hide in this group of trees on the south side near the highway. I anticipate an attack would enter from either the east or the west, but remain on your guard at all times."

A few more specifics were spouted by Dumbledore, Hestia and Emmanuel on the site itself and the likely avenues of attack. And then it was time.

"Alright wizards and witches," said Moody gruffly. "You know ya groups. Get your Portkeys ready."

Harry approached Bill, whom had been quiet throughout the meeting. The red-haired man looked up at Harry with an inscrutable expression, almost tangible tension in the air.

"Evening, Bill."

"Evening, Harry."

A third person joined them. He appeared to be in his late-twenties or early-thirties, with short black hair and a skewed nose, as if it had been broken and not repaired properly. He sized up Harry and Bill and gave a wry grin, completely ignoring or not reading the atmosphere.

"Exciting times, eh mates? Let's make some magic happen."

Harry and Bill looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

All things considered, this was going to be an interesting night.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Harry was bored.

It was nearing midnight. Four hours of kneeling, crouching and sitting just inside a treeline was passed grating and was now exasperating.

The half-hour walk from the Portkey drop zone to their position was the highlight of the night so far, with little communication between the threesome beyond the occasional call for water or fruit from their supplies. At times Harry felt someone's eyes on him. He suspected Bill more than White, whom appeared more reliable than his first impression had indicated. He'd been thorough and professional in securing their site and keeping quiet.

All said, Harry maintained his focus as much as possible on the wide area surrounding the brick single floor building that housed the Norwich Aurors. Harry assumed the inside was magically enhanced, as magical structures generally were. The only signs of life from the building had been a changing of the guard at eight, shortly after their arrival.

Shifting on his knees, Harry sighed audibly. His dark jeans were covered in dirt from the not entirely dry ground some metres into the treeline on the southern side of the park. The late nights, lack of sleep, and the waiting was wearing him down. He wasn't about to fall asleep on the job, but he was definitely feeling the hour.

At least his surroundings had been interesting to look at for the first hour. Wide open space covered the distance between Harry and the Auror building, covered in lush green grass. The northern side, however, was a recreational area, with playing equipment, picnic tables, and a waterfront appeared to have been recently done up. Lights were scattered throughout the area, but were distant enough from the Auror building to leave it largely darkened. A path Harry recognised from the overhead image separated the two.

"Chin up, Harry," whispered White from his position leaning against an old oak tree a few metres away. "We've got another couple hours before the window closes."

Harry nodded and resumed his search of the park. Mist was starting to roll in, the night cool but not enough yet for warming charms over his woollen jumper. The sounds of cars from the highway could sometimes be heard when the wind blew.

Ten minutes later, it was White who sighed. "Cover for me, mates. Need a bathroom break."

Without a word, he disappeared quietly into the trees in the direction of the highway. Harry glanced at Bill and saw the latter was watching him.

"I'm surprised you're here," said Bill. His voice was calm and quiet, barely heard from a distance of ten metres let alone to anyone else listening.

"What do you mean?"

Bill reached up and flicked his fang earring. "I mean, you have your own group separate from the Order. I seem to recall you specifically telling me that you didn't trust the Order or want anything to do with us. Why are you here now?"

Harry turned back to the field and resumed his watch. "None of your business."

"Maybe. Maybe not. There is something that's my business that I want to ask you. I hope you'll offer me the courtesy I feel you owe me and be honest. What is Fleur to you?"

Harry turned to face him.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Bill's eyes narrowed, but his voice remained quiet and calm. "It's a simple question: what is Fleur to you?"

"Are you kidding me? You've waited this long to start in on this? We both have responsibilities to be carrying on with right now! This can wait."

Bill leaned forward, his expression grim.

"I'm ready to cast the fields the moment I have the signal. Now, for the third and final time: _what_ is Fleur to you?"

Harry glared at Bill first in disbelief, then irritation.

"Fleur told me she told you," Harry bit out. "It just sort of happened. What's there to say beyond it happened but it shouldn't have?" He shrugged and turned away.

Bill said nothing for a moment. His eventual response was noticeably emotional.

"Don't make light of this, Harry. I love this woman. And yes, we've discussed this more times than I care to recall. But I want to hear it from you. What were you thinking? Why did you do it? Was it fun for you? What are your intentions toward her?"

Harry whirled around back to Bill. "God, what do you want me to say?" he hissed. "'I love her and intend to steal her from you'? To this day I don't understand what happened. I was hit by the Cruciatus, and she took it upon herself to care for me while I recovered. I didn't ask for any of it, but I'm not going to deny that kissing her wasn't the most amazing experience of my life."

Complete silence followed. After a pause, Harry took a few deep breaths, already thinking he'd been too honest.

Once calmer, he made eye contact and added, "But she's with you, Bill. I know it was wrong. I knew it was wrong, but I let it happen anyway. Now though? I won't interfere with someone when they're in a relationship. The last thing I want is for you two to break up over what happened with me."

Harry held Bill's gaze until he was forced to blink, and turned back to field once more.

For a full minute the only sounds were those of nocturnal animals and the wind in the trees. Near-silent footfalls broke it.

White emerged to greet the pointy ends of two wands. He looked between the two wizards and sighed.

"Settle, mates. It's me. And keep it quiet you two. I could hear the sound of your voices from fifty metres. I don't know what's so important you had to wait until I left, but stuff it on the backburner."

Harry and Bill withdrew their wands and returned to their respective duties. White looked between the two and shook his head, returning to his spot by the old oak.

The waiting continued.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Another hour passed. Now cold, with visible breath, Harry grumbled to himself about wasted sleep time.

It was twenty-past one in the morning when Harry officially figured the night was a bust.

Seconds later a distant sound, unlike any he'd heard all night, disrupted the silence of the dead of night. Harry perked up from his seated position against a towering birch, instantly alert. He took a dozen steps to the last tree before the open field and scanned the parkland from one side to the other.

There. He spotted movement to the west amidst the trees some two hundred metres away from the outpost. Quickly, he tapped his glasses with his wand. His vision significantly improved in range and clarity.

The supersensory charm was a neat little spell when used in short bursts. Flitwick had taught it to him several months prior. Quite simply, it allowed for the heightening of one or more senses. The Professor had emphasised its numerous drawbacks, however, as they could be severe if the charm used too often or for too long or simply in inappropriate situations.

But Harry didn't need it for long. It only took moments to spot someone standing in the tree line where the path leading from one end of the field to the other disappeared toward the township of Norwich. The figure's features were shrouded in the darkness, but the black cloak was enough for Harry to peg him as a likely Death Eater.

"We may have a Death Eater."

Harry didn't take his eyes off of the figure, but heard the shuffling and movement from behind him as the other two became attentive.

"Can you be certain?" was Bill's reply.

White appeared at Harry's side, looking in the same direction. As they watched, the shadowy figure stepped out of the trees and through the light stemming from the lampposts periodically placed along the path, revealing without a doubt the man's affiliation.

Harry tapped a finger to his glasses. "Supersensory Charm. There's one person, black cloak, looking around – no, hang on." The distant crack of Apparition went off again as the figure disappeared. "He's gone."

"Remain alert," said White. "That was a scout."

Increasingly impressed with White, Harry stayed prepared for when the man returned. No doubt with friends.

This time, the wait wasn't long. Less than a minute later, considerably more cracks of Apparition filled the night.

For Bill's benefit, Harry related what he saw. "Now there are three, four – okay, there are four, but I swear I heard more sounds of Apparition. This is definitely it."

"I heard those, too. I'll need twenty seconds to get these up and running once the signal comes," said Bill, quickly returning to his runes, something Harry hadn't made much sense of despite his reading in the subject. "Let me know the _moment_ you see it."

Meanwhile, the four Death Eaters had been on the move, rapidly closing the distance to where Harry estimated the Auror alarm fields extended to. The one in front, the original figure, was striding with purpose. His companions were less confident and disciplined, often twisting their heads and walking at different paces. Despite Harry's increased vision, however, the masks and robes left little identifying features to note.

"There, to the east," whispered White, "Between the swings and the pathway."

Harry turned to see what White was looking at it and spotted them almost immediately. Another four Death Eaters were rapidly approaching the other side of the Auror outpost.

The two groups were now only one hundred metres from the Auror building. Harry gripped his wand tighter. Surely they'd crossed the alarm fields that Dumbledore had mentioned were present.

The one in front on the western group, the leader Harry assumed, stopped about fifty metres from the building. The other three Death Eaters, all varying degrees shorter than the first, spread out beside him. The tall one must've said something to his compatriots as all their wands rose.

"That's the signal," said White loudly, the need for silence over. Harry too saw the green sparks from the waterfront. He cast the counter-charm on his eyes and blinked a few times to recover from the abrupt change back.

At that moment a dark red robed Auror stepped out from the blind side of the building. He spotted the Death Eaters. He let out a shout before he was bombarded with curses. A hasty shield and some quick reflexes seemed to save him temporarily, but the Auror was in trouble.

Another series of cracks filled the air, some distant but several much closer.

"Done!" called Bill.

A strange sensation passed over Harry's skin as the runes were activated. However, it was mostly forgotten as his body surged with adrenaline. Harry searched amidst the treeline to their east, in the direction he'd heard more sounds of Apparition.

He felt more than heard White move closer.

"Did you –?"

"Quiet," whispered White. "Disillusion yourselves. I'll check it out."

Harry obeyed. He tapped his head and felt the cold, dripping sensation down his back associated with a successful casting. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill doing the same.

"If I'm not back in ninety seconds, assume I've been spotted and warn the rest there are more."

The shimmer of someone under the spell passed through his vision for a moment, but was quickly lost in the trees and darkness. There had been no sounds of footfalls this time.

A scream of agony filled the air from the field. Harry turned back to the fight taking place and frantically searched for the source, fearing an Order member was injured. In the interim, two more Aurors had appeared, but one was down. The others were trying to shield him and themselves from an attack seemingly from both sides. The west Order group (even from this distance, Harry could make out Kingsley towering form) was engaging the first Death Eater group and splitting their attention. The outpost blocked off the remainder of the battle. The sounds, however, indicate there was more fighting taking place than Harry could see.

Harry tore his eyes from the spectacle. It had been at least forty-five seconds since White left. His grip on his wand tightened. Maybe it was nerves, but he couldn't shake the feeling this was taking too long.

With a flick of his wand, Harry's footfalls became silent, too. Slowly, eyes still canvasing for signs of life, he moved toward where he'd last spotted Bill.

All Harry really understood about the quick and dirty setup Bill was using was that the fields were temperamental and fundamentally less reliable than a set fixed to a location. Essentially, the setup required constant monitoring in case of a failure, so Bill wouldn't be far.

Harry stopped about five metres from the setup and listened for any further signs of life beyond his own. His heart pounded as the adrenaline flowed. Every second passed agonisingly slowly as Harry waited for White to return.

A nearby shout was quickly followed by a scream. The scream was cut off almost immediately.

Harry cursed. He recognised the voice. White was down. He reached into his expanded back pocket. Magic was handy for keeping his Invisibility Cloak on him at all times.

"Bill," whispered Harry harshly, trying to spot the disillusioned man as he gathered the Cloak around himself.

"That was White, wasn't it?" His voice was close. Meters, likely, but Harry couldn't see the shimmer.

"Yes. I have my Invisibility Cloak on me. Here." Harry tossed it in the direction he thought he'd heard Bill's voice come from. It was snatched out of the air almost immediately.

"Got it."

"Good." Harry turned back to where he'd heard White scream. He knew what he had to do. "Send a Patronus to the Order and let them know what's happened. I'm going to try and circle around and rescue White."

_If he's alive_.

Without waiting for a response, Harry quickly crouch-ran passed where Bill was and deeper into the trees. His plan was fairly simple: circle around and try to spot the White and enemy before they spotted him.

It took less than thirty seconds for Harry to locate them. Another group of four Death Eaters – black robes, masks – were walking toward the edge of the trees. One was lagging behind, and fell to the ground. Even from his distance Harry could see an arm obviously broken judging from the exposed bone. The others stopped and the cry of pain.

"Bleedin' Aurors," one cussed in a thick Scottish accent. He was the biggest of the bunch. His robes did little to hide his bulk. He was looking toward the still ongoing battle. "Knew there'd be actives, but how come there's one out here? I thought this place was meant to be a secret. And how'd this one find us so quick?"

"That one wasn't no Auror," replied another. This one was average height. His hood wasn't on but there was little to identify beyond the brown hair.

Harry ducked passed a few more trees, trying to improve his angle on his foes.

"Shut it you lot," snapped another. This time, it was a woman's voice. "Yaxley wanted us here after Cambridge so we're here. Now we're going to lose out there if we don't help." The woman turned and looked at her companion now trying to stand. "Get up you useless twat. It's not your wand arm."

"I'd like to see you say that after you've taken a Blasting Curse to the arm," he spat. The voice was the young sounding of the lot, maybe a few years older than Harry. "This bloody hurts." He managed to stand on his own, barely, and let out a deep breath. "I think I'm good."

"Smashing," the woman replied sarcastically. Harry figured her the leader. "Now let's move already in case this one had friends. "

Harry had never seen someone Apparate while under Anti-Apparition fields before. For the briefest millisecond, the woman disappeared, only to reappear, stumbling and clutching her head.

"Damnit, someone's set up Anti-Apparition fields."

"I don't like this," said the injured one.

"Nobody cares. We'll run it. The Dark Lord won't be pleased if we fail here tonight. You, watch behind us."

The four took off out into the field. Brown Hair took to watching their back.

Harry searched his surroundings quickly but couldn't see White anywhere. He cast the same spell Hermione had thought to use on the Hogwarts Express to reveal Bellatrix's group, but to no success. White was further in the treeline or simply out of Harry's vision.

His attention quickly returned to the Death Eaters, whom were already nearing halfway across the field. The fighting from this angle was shielded from view by the outpost itself. But the intention was clear; they were going to flank the Order. If Bill's message hadn't gotten through yet – or even if it had, there were far more Death Eaters here than they'd expected and the Order was still preoccupied judging by the shouts and flashes of spellfire – no-one would be expecting another group.

Harry swore. His priority had changed: stop the Death Eaters.

There was a lot of ground to cover to catch up. He ran, quickly reaching full speed, risking that he might be spotted. But it didn't matter. Brown Hair had given up watching behind and was jogging along with his companions.

Despite all the exercise Harry had had over the last several months and the speed he'd developed, the Death Eaters had too big a lead. They were going to get passed the outpost and be able to attack the Aurors and the Order before he'd catch up. So, it was time to slow them down.

Concentrating intensely on the outcome he sought, Harry made a sweeping gesture with his wand. The ground beneath him shifted. An earthy scent of turned soil filled his senses. A bulge swelled forth in the earth before him and rocketed forward, rapidly closing the distance between Harry and his targets.

The injured man was jogging gingerly, cradling his arm. The deformation passed beneath him and his left foot struck the edge of the bulge. His ankle rolled and he fell on his already broken arm. His scream of pain drowned out the sounds of fighting.

Brown Hair turned to see what happened, his face red with exertion and frustration. He was the only one to miss the boulder rise from the ground in front of him. The woman managed to stop herself from colliding with the sudden obstruction. The enormous Scotsman managed to turn sideways and connected shoulder first. Brown Hair didn't see it, connected and went down.

Harry didn't stop to enjoy his success. Having been tracking their reactions to know where to strike, he cast of a pair of Blasting Hexes at the woman and the Scotsman as they searched for the source of their predicament. He followed with a swish and jab in the direction of their fallen comrades.

The woman managed to deflect the spell directed at her. The Scotsman dodged to the side barely, supporting his heavily bruised if not dislocated shoulder. The boulder took a direct hit and broke apart, pieces falling back in and around the hole the boulder had left.

The woman cursed and then began throwing literal ones back at Harry, whom had narrowed their gap to a dozen meters. With ease, Harry parried and dodged the curses and threw a few back before shielding as debris from his shattered boulder was banished in his direction by the Scotsman. The shield held, but the dust clouded his vision for a moment.

The moment of distraction allowed the pair to check on their fallen allies only to find the formerly well-manicured and maintained grass now growing and pinning them on the ground. The injured one never stood a chance, having fallen on his broken arm; Brown Hair was struggling with the persistent lawn, his wand just out of reach. The animated grass held a tight grip on both his wrists, one of his legs and was snaking across his chest with rapid alacrity.

That moment was all the time Harry gave them to counter his charm. With two short wand thrusts he conjured two nets of Acromantula silk, a personal favourite of the spells Flitwick had taught him. The silk shined in the light from the street lamps, oddly beautiful when dissociated from the menacing creatures themselves.

The Scotsman cast a cutting curse at his net, expecting to sever it and render it useless. Harry grinned in remembrance at the first time he encountered it, working under the same logic.

With a twist of his wand, the silk shimmered just before the cutting curse connected. The spell failed, the silk reinforced to withstand most attempts to cut it. The net connected, and the Scotsman acted like anybody who'd walked into a spider web: he panicked and struggled to free himself.

Harry saw out of the corner of his eye with grim satisfaction as the net tightened with his struggles until he tripped over and landed face first.

The woman, meanwhile, had managed to conjure a wooden dummy to act as a shield. It worked. The net connected and the woman start threw a slew of curses and hexes at Harry. He parried them with ease, his tens of hours of practice with Flitwick truly paying dividends.

Suddenly, the entire field was lit up as if the sun were at its zenith, though no warmth followed. Harry shielded his eyes and himself, instinctively turning side on and crouching on the balls of his feet to present a smaller target and be ready to dodge or dive. When no spells came and his eyes adjusted a few seconds later, Harry rapidly scanned the area for the last of his opponents.

There she was about thirty meters away, fleeing from Harry in the direction she'd been heading. As Harry saw her, she reached the edge of the brick building that was the Auror's Norwich outpost. He banished the wand of the fallen Scotsman and knew from experience that he was out of the fight. Then, he took off after the woman.

Harry watched as she used her palm to push herself along the wall, clearly struggling to put distance between the two of them. With a swift thought a metal link chain exploded from the end of his wand. The chain hit the earth with a weighty thud a dozen strides behind her and twisted and turned after its target.

The woman started at the sounded and sidestepped away, searching for the source of the sound. With a panicked shout, she banished the chain off into the distance. Instantly she was forced to focus all her efforts on a shield as she was bombarded with a series of rudimentary spells sent to pin her down.

With a flourish of his wand, Harry sent his most powerful Concussive Curse, designed simply to blow people off their feet. The spell struck her weakened shield, shattered it, and connected solidly, knocking the woman into the air and onto her back a good ten meters from her original point.

Harry sent a set off a stunning spell and summoned her wand. The woman was too busy coughing and spluttering as she struggled to regain air in her stomach to roll aside.

His four were down. Casting a shield to protect himself, Harry quickly surveyed the area for any further signs of danger.

First thing he noticed was the source of the artificial light someone had cast over the area, revealing the spacious parkland for over a hundred metres in any direction. Hovering in the air near above him was a ball of light in the shape of a sun.

The second thing he noticed was near the shoreline a duel was still taking place, but quickly wrapped up as Order members managed to take down the last of their opponents. Harry turned further and saw many bodies on the ground, one of which he knew for certain was an Order member. One man, a face Harry recognised from the meeting earlier, groaned and began sitting up as he watched.

Thankful to see him relatively unharmed, he turned further to see if any further threats were visible only to notice a surprising number of people around the Auror outpost entrance. Last he'd seen it, Harry had counted only three red robed Aurors. Now there were at least a dozen, with more exiting the building, gazing around at the aftermath. Harry only moved on when one of the new arrivals made eye contact.

He noticed Tonks and the black haired lady who'd spoken against his ability to duel in kill or be killed situations moving in his direction.

Tonks looked at the woman Harry had captured just off to his side and then into the field toward the other three, who were now stationary, entirely stuck in their trappings.

"Cor, Harry," said Tonks with a giant grin. "You did well!"

"Solid work," said the woman.

"White's down somewhere in the woods, injured if not worse" said Harry. "I couldn't find him but saw these four trying to flank you."

"We got Bill's Patronus. We'll find him," assured Tonks. The two of them set about securing his prisoners.

Harry looked between the two and then once more at his surroundings. The Anti-Apparition fields had held and the Death Eaters were all captured or dead, mostly the former. The Aurors were assisting. For the time being they were seemingly accepting that they'd been saved and didn't care by whom.

Adrenaline still pumping, his breathing a little rushed, his face flush in his success, Harry almost laughed.

All the doubts, all the fears that he wasn't ready, that he wasn't able to handle a fight with Death Eaters, that the DA weren't ready either, were quashed. Part of him realised that these were low-level thugs. But the duel had been so convincingly one –sided.

To cap it off, Tonks, an excellent duellist, and a sceptical Order member had praised his ability.

A moment later, Tonks reappeared at his side.

"Time to go, Harry," said Tonks, a long rope in her hand. "We ought to keep Scrimgeour's eyes off you. Grab on."

Harry saw other Order members grouping together and disappearing in swirls of light. He stepped forward, grabbed the rope and felt the now-familiar yank behind his navel.

His last thought as he disappeared was a joyful one.

"_We can do this_."

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: And now you know part of why I needed Harry to have plenty of money – to afford a large enough house and provide food, etc. There are a few other reasons that'll become clearer as the story progresses, but this was the most immediate and primary one.

Originally, the house Harry was going to buy was to be haunted by a ghost that would ultimately allow Harry a connection to the ghost society of Wizarding Britain which would lead him to a Horcrux. That subplot was scrapped fairly early on after I realised just how wordy this entire story was becoming. I replaced it with something much better anyway.

Whenever I write Fred and George, this is what they'll be like. Twinspeak is one of those aspects of fanon that absolutely must die. I believe they're almost supernaturally on the same page with each other, but saying three or four words each in a sentence is aggravating and mind-bogglingly unamusing after the ten thousandth time. Hell, it was after the fifth time I encountered it.

As for the action scene, hopefully from this one onwards you'll see that Harry has learned a ton and will be competent, albeit not yet ruthless. He isn't in the mentality to kill at this stage and while reviews complaining about it are hilariously entertaining, Harry simply isn't there right now. To pre-empt any issues with how Harry incapacitated the four, this was intentional. Stunning results in a one spell solution. The first three would've required something a little more complex than a 'reenervate'.

The next chapter should be far shorter and will end Easter. One more chapter will follow after that to end our time at Hogwarts and basically the second third of the fic.


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